


Gray Skies of Qinghe

by platinumtongue



Category: Mo Dao Zu Shi, grand master of demonic cultivation - Fandom, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV), 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù, 魔道祖师 | Módào Zǔshī (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Betrayal, Bittersweet, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Kissing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Master/Servant, Mental Health Issues, Multiple Pairings, One-Sided Attraction, Oral Sex, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, Redemption, Straight seme, Sumata, Unrequited Love, Xianxia, Yaoi, danmei - Freeform, drunken Lan Xichen, manly gay couple, reformed Meng Yao, tall seme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:20:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 24
Words: 97,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26295538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platinumtongue/pseuds/platinumtongue
Summary: A story of loyalty and mutually unrequited love between Nie Mingjue and his half-Sogdian servant, Kang Ruien. From the start, Ruien assumes his clan leader is in love with his betrayer, Meng Yao. But after Mingjue seems depressed at the end of the Sunshot Campaign, Ruien proposes something to ease Mingjue's stress, beginning by asking if he has ever been kissed. Meanwhile, Jin Guangyao attempts to save Lan Xichen from himself, while Lan Xichen attempts to heal the long suffering of his dear friend.(non-con warning for the final scene in Ch. 3)(pa-pa-pa scenes in Ch 2, 5, 6, 10, 13, 17, 22 and 23 (x3!) )Sample:"I suppose you could say that like attracts like."Ruien stopped what he was doing to look hard at Meng Yao again. “Clan Leader Nie?” he asked.Meng Yao shook his head. “Another. But just as hopeless an attachment.” He sighed and leaned his shoulder against the shelf as well. “Mine is newer than yours, I would guess, and so…I suppose I brought up the subject hoping for some advice.”Ruien sighed. “What advice?” he asked tersely. “You said so yourself. It’s hopeless.”
Relationships: Lan XiChen/Jin GuangYao, Lan XiChen/Meng Yao, Nie Mingjue/Kang Ruien, Niè MíngJué/OC
Comments: 76
Kudos: 138





	1. Flower in Hand

Kang Ruien had watched silently as his clan leader entrusted a piece of his soul to someone who did not deserve it. Ruien, a myrmidon of the Nie for many years now, had never been concerned about Meng Yao’s past; he himself was considered by many to be a foreigner due to his Sogdian blood, and he should know better than to judge people for things they could not control. But being of a similar rank and social position to Meng Yao often gave him a perspective that Nie Mingjue did not have. 

Once, during the Sunshot campaign, Ruien had witnessed a myrmidon of the Jin sect purposefully spill the dregs of his tea on Meng Yao just as the delicate man was leaning in to fill his cup. The myrmidon had loudly blamed Meng Yao, using language Ruien would never think to use about another human being. But Meng Yao barely reacted. He bowed and asked for forgiveness, without a trace of irony or anger. 

The Jin myrmidon in question scoffed at his obsequiousness and left with his fellows soon after. Ruien, who was quite learned but whose cultivation was not high, like Meng Yao was usually relegated to servants’ duties during the campaign. He came to assist in cleaning the table and floor without a word.

“Ah…it’s all right, Ruien,” Meng Yao had said with his ever-present smile. “It’s my mess, I’ll clean it.”

Ruien frowned at Meng Yao in wonder at why he would feel the need to lie to an equal. “He did it on purpose. Why say it was your fault?”

Meng Yao hesitated before smiling reluctantly. “You understand, don’t you? No good would come from arguing.”

Ruien did understand why it was pointless to argue with superiors. But that should not include him. One thing he had noticed about Meng Yao was that his desire for advancement was so strong that he would side with the powerful, whether or not they were right, whatever their relation to him, and even if they were not present. It was this tendency that first caused Ruien to think he probably shouldn’t trust the very talented young man so easily. 

He did not know what exactly took place when Meng Yao somehow sealed Clan Leader Nie’s qi on the battlefield, only that afterward, Nie Mingjue’s attitude toward him was night and day. It was to the point that Clan Leader Nie nearly flew into a rage every time Meng Yao’s name was mentioned. 

The whole situation gave Ruien an uneasy feeling in his stomach. For one reason in particular; one that in fact only Meng Yao knew about.

Years ago, in fact only weeks after entering the service of the Nie, Meng Yao had observed Ruien taking his daily orders from Nie Mingjue, which happened to include sending them both to the record room. The walk there was mostly silent, but just as they arrived, it was broken by Meng Yao’s soft and elegant tenor.

“Master Kang,” said the newest servant in a surprisingly refined voice. “I have heard you are of Sogdian blood.”

Ruien raised an eyebrow at him. Normally people did not touch on the subject directly, only vaguely hinting about him being somehow foreign or stupid. “Half. Yes.”

“You were rescued from the midst of a war by the Nie,” Meng Yao continued, opening the door for his senior servant. 

Ruien wasn’t sure he liked where this line of questioning was headed, but he walked in and waited for Meng Yao to follow. “That’s right.”

After closing the door behind them, Meng Yao asked, “How long have you now been in their service?”

“Twelve years.”

“I see. And how much of that time have you been in love with Clan Leader Nie?”

Ruien turned a pitiless gaze on the smaller man, having a brief thought that this man might already be an enemy he now had to be wary of. 

But at the coldness in Ruien’s stare, Meng Yao only laughed lightly, a charming sound. “Please be at ease, Master Kang. The information is of no use to me, so you can be assured I would never threaten you with it. After all, you likely know better than anyone, don’t you? Clan Leader Nie is entirely heterosexual.”

Ruien closed his eyes with a tired breath, turning his attention to his task of updating the clan’s weapons inventory. He sought out the correct volume of ledger as he spoke. “If you know, then why bring it up?”

“Oh, pure interest,” Meng Yao said, resting one delicate hand on the shelf, at a respectful distance from Ruien. “In fact, you might say like attracts like.”

Ruien stopped what he was doing to look hard at Meng Yao again. “Clan Leader Nie?” he asked.

Meng Yao shook his head. “Another. But just as hopeless an attachment.” He sighed and leaned his shoulder against the shelf as well. “Mine is newer than yours, I would guess, and so…I suppose I brought up the subject hoping for some advice.”

Ruien sighed. “What advice?” he asked tersely. “You said so yourself. It’s hopeless.” 

He found the book he was looking for and left Meng Yao there without turning back.

He knew without being reminded that it was hopeless. Not only was Nie Mingjue almost certainly heterosexual, but he was so demanding and unforgiving, there was hardly a woman in the world that he would ever even tolerate. There were only two things he respected: strength and integrity. Ruien tried not to be overtly jealous of the way Meng Yao was able to earn favor despite seeming to lack both these things.

He was not prepared when Nie Mingjue asked him to take over Meng Yao’s role during the campaign. Ruien had some talents, but he would be the first to admit that he had neither Meng Yao’s incredible memory nor his impressive social skills. He spoke numerous dialects and was a scholar of battle tactics, so at least he tried to assist in those areas. He did his best, and surprisingly Clan Leader Nie was not overly harsh with him. On most occasions. Comparatively speaking.

“This spy of Xichen’s, whoever he is,” Mingjue was saying during a planning meeting with just the two of them on this occasion, “is saying the best place to strike is here.” He pointed to a spot on the map, at which Ruien had to restrain the urge to physically recoil. “Speak,” Mingjue prodded, noting his reaction.

Ruien traced back along the route between that point and where they were now with his finger. “This path is narrow. Hard to fit more than one or two at a time. The following section is entirely down hill until that point, meaning the only expedient means of escape would be up even closer to Nightless City. If anyone were to approach from the east, we would be utterly cut off, with no way out but to go further toward the enemy.”

Mingjue sighed, but didn’t seem to have a response. Instead he grumbled, “…it’s not ‘we.’”

“Clan Leader…?”

“You’re not going,” Mingjue said flatly.

“Not going?” Ruien repeated in alarm. “I’m sorry…I know my cultivation is lacking compared to Meng Yao, but-“

“It isn’t about that,” Mingjue replied dismissively, walking away toward his desk as if the issue were already settled. He took a seat there. “It looks bad this time. I know that. Xichen’s information has been good until now, and that’s the only reason I’m putting up with this now. But I won’t risk my whole force, and I won’t take anyone not already prepared to die.”

“Clan Leader…” Ruien murmured, feeling deeply wounded by his clan leader’s lack of faith in him. “…I am prepared to die.” He pointedly avoided adding the words he thought quietly to himself after that: for you.

Mingjue’s jaw shifted in discomfort and Ruien worried he might be angry. But he wasn’t sure why he would be. As far as he knew, Nie Mingjue not only preferred, but expected this attitude from his myrmidons. Was Ruien so weak that he only found the sentiment irritating coming from him?

Sadly, the clan leader’s next grumbled words seemed to confirm this. “You can say things like that, only when you can be certain your death will accomplish something. Otherwise it’s just a waste.”

Having his honest feelings of loyalty referred to as ‘a waste’ was painful, but he couldn’t deny the logic. It killed him every time Nie Mingjue went into battle, and at least being able to be present and see with his own eyes, his figure fighting so bravely, seemingly invincibly, was the only thing that eased his anxiety. But it was true; he would be little more than a burden by comparison to most of Nie Mingjue’s powerful saber cultivators. 

He nodded and bowed before taking his leave. Little did he know how close he would come to losing his clan leader entirely on that day. 

When Lan Xichen brought him back from the raid in Nightless City, the great and terrifying man who could slice through seemingly whole battalions of Wen soldiers with a single stroke was barely able to hold himself upright. Blood dripped from every visible part of him. Ruien called for the healers in a panic, while Zewu-jun stayed close until it at last seemed that Nie Mingjue would pull through. 

Also nearby, his presence so soft that he was barely noticeable, was the ignominious Meng Yao. He was wearing Wen sect garb, but while standing beside Zewu-jun, no one seemed to question him. He likewise stayed close until it seemed Nie Mingjue was out of danger, but whenever Mingjue opened his eyes and began to snarl at the sight of him, he would move behind Lan Xichen and out of sight until Mingjue’s consciousness faded again. 

The next morning, Ruien’s hands were still shaking as he came in to check on his clan leader. He checked to see that one of the doctors had already cleaned and replaced his bandages today. Since Zewu-jun would likely soon be arriving to play healing music for him, there was really nothing for Ruien to do. For now, he merely sat by his clan leader’s bed with his face in his hands.

Crestfallen as he was, he didn’t notice as Nie Mingjue’s eyes slowly opened and he gazed at the ceiling above him in silence for some time. 

“I don’t need a babysitter,” came a rasping growl.

Ruien gasped at the sudden sound of his low voice. “Clan Leader…” he murmured worriedly, so relieved that he was awake that he ignored the harshness of his words.

Mingjue glanced roughly in his direction before letting out a soft sigh. “What happened after Wen Ruohan died?”

Ruien nodded, understanding at once what he wanted to know. “After the news of his successfully killing Wen Ruohan spread, Meng Yao was formally accepted by Jin Guangshan. He is now called, ‘Jin Guangyao,’” Ruien told him calmly.

Mingjue scoffed bitterly. “Fitting,” he grunted. 

Ruien’s heart ached for him, not only because he could hear the betrayal in his voice. In the tortured expression on the face of this uncompromising man, he knew that despite his anger and pain, Nie Mingjue had not yet given up on Meng Yao even now.

“Clan Leader…forgive me for speaking out of turn…” he said softly.

“Speak.”

“…do you love him?”

Even though he was looking away, rage rolled over Nie Mingjue’s expression. His bloodshot eyes turned to Ruien as his whole body seemed to shake with fury. “Love? Love what? That son of a prostitute? Are you trying to drag me into the gutter with him?”

Ruien took a deep breath to regulate his emotions and focus on Clan Leader Nie’s needs, which at the moment did not concern his own feelings at all. “Clan Leader. I only asked in case it might lighten your burden for someone to know. If I am wrong, I will not speak of it again.”

Nie Mingjue scoffed and tossed his head away as if this didn’t even merit a response. But Ruien was sure he could see torment lingering on his face even in profile. At length, Mingjue opened his mouth slowly as if gathering his courage to answer. At that moment, there was a knock on the door. 

“Da-ge?”

It was Lan Xichen. 

Ruien swept to his feet and let him inside at once, secretly grateful not to have to hear the answer to his question. Kind as ever even toward people much beneath him in rank, Zewu-jun smiled and bowed his head gently in greeting. Ruien bowed more formally in return, hoping to hide the slight flush in his cheeks from receiving even slight attention from the beautiful Lan clan leader, and left them the room to themselves.

As he was closing the door, he heard Lan Xichen say, “Your new Sogdian deputy is very loyal to you, isn’t he?”

Mingjue only let out a soft, disapproving breath through his nose and did not answer. 

…

It took some time for things to regain any semblance of normalcy, but the dust started to clear, and after all the Wen had been soundly defeated. Gradually, the new enemy of peace and orthodoxy seemed to become the one who was probably responsible for as many Wen deaths as Nie Mingjue himself during the Sunshot Campaign: the one some had started to call the Founder of the Demonic Path, Wei Wuxian. At the grand hunt at Baifeng Mountain just a few months later, he purposefully flirted broadly and showed off his skills as if to flout anyone who was really concerned over such things. 

Fortunately Nie Mingjue had no interest in him to start with, so he barely seemed to notice Wei Wuxian’s antics. Ruien rode behind his clan leader in the procession, watching all the sons of noble families being showered in a rain of flowers from the young ladies watching. He was almost heartbroken at how the flowers stopped quite abruptly before Mingjue’s huge and forbidding presence. 

After observing Wei Wuxian shamelessly toss a flower to Lan Wangji, Ruien caught a blossom that fell near him, presumably intended for Nie Huaisang in front of him. It was a rare blue orchid. Feeling guilty, he looked up toward the watch towers to try to spot the maiden who had thrown it. He was surprised when he met the eyes of one with her fingers still stretched out, and when he did, she quickly hid a shy smile behind her sleeve. He blushed and swallowed, feeling even more guilty after realizing it had indeed been meant for him. 

The hunt was something of a disaster for the nobility, but for lower myrmidons like Ruien it went rather well. After catching a few ghouls himself, and especially after seeing the majority of the remainder willingly offer themselves up to the Jiang thanks to Wei Wuxian’s flute, Nie Mingjue seemed to lose interest in the hunt. Ruien found him idly giving some sugar cubes to his horse no more than an hour after the hunt began. 

“Clan Leader?” he asked cautiously as he approached. 

Nie Mingjue glanced over his shoulder at him. “Nh,” he answered.

“You’re…not interested in the hunt?”

“With so little big prey left, all one can accomplish is to earn other clans’ enmity,” Mingjue commented, sounding genuinely bored. “The most interesting prey is already gone anyway.”

The Clan Leader glanced up as he noticed Ruien carrying a dead measuring snake over his shoulder. He nodded his approval. 

“Well done.”

Even though it was a comparatively small monster, there were few things in this world that made Ruien happier than even small praise from Nie Mingjue. In that moment, his heart so full, desire for closeness rose up almost painfully. He opened a qiankun pouch and stuffed the measuring snake inside it to make it easier to carry. 

With his hands now free, he removed the orchid that he had been carefully keeping in his lapel. His heart pounded as his every instinct told him this was a bad idea. And yet, he slowly found himself holding the flower out before him, within arm’s reach of Nie Mingjue. 

The clan leader glanced down at the curious object, for which no doubt a man like him had no practical use or meaning. “What’s this?” he asked. 

“Oh…nothing,” Ruien said quietly, retracting his arm a little. “Forgive me…”

“But what do you mean by it?” Mingjue pressed, seeming annoyed.

Ruien shook his head quickly, though inside he was starting to feel incredibly cold and ashamed. “Nothing.”

Mingjue cast his gaze toward the ground for some time. Eventually he said, “I don’t need pity.”

“It’s not pity,” Ruien said sharply. He turned the flower nervously in his slightly shaking hands. “I wanted to give it to you. It is my selfish desire to give you something beautiful and auspicious. That is its meaning.”

Mingjue frowned down at him with uncertainty. Mingjue normally avoided eye contact, so being under his intense gaze for this long was rather unnerving. Ruien helplessly stared at the ground, unable to move. 

He was surprised to see a large, calloused hand enter his vision. It grasped the stem of the flower and took it from him. When he looked up in shock, Mingjue was frowning at the object as if he’d never seen one and didn’t like it. 

“What do I do with it?” he asked, though his voice sounded softer than normal.

Ruien swallowed, his spine tingling from the softness in this harsh and terrifying man’s voice. Entirely forgetting the question that had just been posed to him, Ruien asked one of his own out of the blue.

“Clan Leader…have you ever been kissed?”

He expected Mingjue to either go into a rage or become dreadfully embarrassed, but the huge man just sighed. “I said not to pity me. I know who I am. I’m not one to be kissed.”

“…would you like to be?”


	2. A Good Subordinate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nie Mingjue considers the source of his hatred for Jin Guangyao, and then discusses his subordinate's bizarre proposal with Lan Xichen. Eventually, despite his doubts, he decides it might be worth pursuing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Chinese third-person pronouns are gender neutral when spoken, so Xichen doesn’t catch on to Mingjue’s meaning right away.

Kang Ruien’s heart was beating so loud he could barely hear himself think. He had unfortunately looked up to his clan leader’s eyes to gauge his reaction as he asked the preposterous question, and now was too nervous to look away. 

Nie Mingjue was unusually silent and pensive after he heard it, though not without his characteristic frown. He turned his gaze down to the flower in his hands. If Ruien didn’t know any better, he could swear the normally obtuse man was slowly putting two and two together. 

“What are you asking me?” Mingjue growled in an unforgiving tone, though seeming to address the flower. “Speak clearly.”

Ruien gave a dry swallow. He had to prepare himself. He had come this far, so if he backed down now things would only get worse than before. But he was equally certain that Nie Mingjue did not want any kind of intimate relationship with one of his myrmidons. Perhaps, though, just perhaps, he would tolerate a clearly delineated relationship with only one purpose.

“I am offering…myself…as an experienced partner,” Ruien said softly, which was only partly true. He had experience, and his partners had seemed pleased by his skills, but even with other men Ruien’s only experience with submissive partners. He did not dare expect, nor was he even sure he desired, such a thing from Nie Mingjue. 

“Clan Leader,” he began again, with a more measured tone. “The most dangerous thing for a saber cultivator is a buildup of yang energy. Is this not so?”

Mingjue was still looking away from him and did not answer. But he didn’t need to; in fact, Ruien only brought it up because the issue seemed to have been weighing on his mind for some time.

“Now that the campaign is over, there will be less and less opportunities to expel excess yang energy. For the health of your body and mind, and for the future of the clan, I would be honored if you would let me help you.”

Mingjue’s jaw tightened visibly, his countenance clouding over like the coming of a storm. “How do I surround myself with smooth-talking schemers?” he snarled. 

Ruien’s insides felt cold. If Nie Mingjue discovered his feelings, or even if he were merely offended by the offer, getting kicked out of the clan might be the best Ruien could hope for. He had done worse to others for much less. Yet none of that stung quite as badly as the idea that he had used up what might have been his only chance for the slightest amount of intimacy with the man he had loved as long as he could remember, and all for nothing.

Even in anger, Mingjue’s stern face seemed unbearably handsome to Ruien. He could hardly bear to look at it as he waited for whatever his sentence might be.

Yet none came. Mingjue mounted his horse without another word on the subject. “Back to Carp Tower. Jin Guangshan hasn’t even begun to be unbearable,” he said, and with that he squeezed his horse’s flanks and urged it on without a backward glance.

In mild shock that he had broached the subject that had terrified him for so long and somehow neither been accepted nor thrown out of the clan, Ruien stared at the ground in front of him. Idly, as he glanced over the dirt and pine needles, he wondered why the flower he had given him was not discarded here on the ground as he anticipated. Had Mingjue kept it?

…

Nie Mingjue’s plan that evening was to drink himself to a state of not caring. Talking with Xichen usually helped him to cool his anger, but lately even if he wasn’t present himself, Jin Guangyao always seemed to come up in conversation. Though he knew drinking only increased his tendency to lash out in anger and whatever temporary relief it brought would only delay the inevitable, he had had enough of staring at sparks-amidst-snow for one day. 

He himself couldn’t explain the extent of his anger toward Jin Guangyao. Quite unlike Wen Ruohan, for whom he had a constant and burning hatred due to his role in the death of his father, what he felt toward Jin Guangyao was somehow deeper and more painful. Yet now that he had been accepted by the noble families, the war was over, and he had at least claimed to have saved Nie Mingjue’s life in the process, there was no acceptable outlet for this rage. Mingjue felt it cutting into him day by day, carving out a space inside his heart. 

When he first noticed Meng Yao, it was because of his diligence. And almost immediately after, his beauty. 

Meng Yao was small and delicate, with a slightly feminine frame. He always moved incredibly gracefully, no matter how poor his robes or how dirty they became from toil. But in particular, when he stood still and smiled softly, his graceful bearing soothed Mingjue’s heart, much the way he imagined a loyal wife would for her husband. More than once, Mingjue had imagined how things might have been different if he had been a woman. He could not tell even Xichen about this.

He still hadn’t wrapped his head around what Kang Ruien had been suggesting on the mountain. Had he ever been kissed? No. What maiden would be fearless enough to try? 

“Xichen,” he said idly at one point when Jin Guangyao had left them, flitting off somewhere to be obsequious no doubt. “Have you ever been kissed?”

Xichen choked on his tea. Mingjue raised an eyebrow at him, unexpectedly amused by seeing his perpetually composed friend actually show some distress. 

Xichen cleared his throat and set down his tea, quickly regaining his composure. “I’m not sure this topic is entirely appropriate for the setting. Why do you ask?”

Mingjue sighed, not quite willing to admit the details. “Curious,” he grumbled halfheartedly.

Xichen closed his eyes and nodded in deep consideration, seeming to be weighing whether his sense of friendship toward Mingjue or unerring politeness would win out. In the end, Mingjue was rather moved to discover that friendship seemed to be the victor. 

“I…have not,” Xichen said in an undertone that even sitting right next to him Mingjue struggled to hear. “But…there is someone…I would like to.”

Mingjue’s eyes flicked across the room, easily finding the only member of the Jin family still wearing his cap this late into the evening, and unsurprisingly the wearer had his typical genial smile on as well. Mingjue scoffed. He said nothing, however, as Xichen seemed to be under the delusion that his feelings were not completely obvious to anyone who saw the two of them together.

“Da-ge…could it be that there is someone who has captured your interest?”

Unfortunately, Mingjue did not realize in the slight haze of drunkenness that he was still glaring across the room at Jin Guangyao as he considered Xichen’s question. But Xichen did. 

“Da-ge…” Xichen murmured, looking quite shaken. “…is it…?”

Mingjue growled irritably. “Don’t say out loud what you thought just now. I don’t mind hitting you, Xichen.”

Despite the threat, Xichen let out a soft sigh of relief. “Well. I’m sure anyone would be lucky to receive your attention, Da-ge.”

Mingjue barked out a bitter laugh. “You’re not serious.”

“I wouldn’t joke about such things,” Xichen replied easily.

“Lucky? To be chased after by this?” Mingjue asked, gesturing to his forbidding face. “My own little brother jumps when he hears my voice.”

“That may have more to do with his personality than yours. After all, I have sensitive ears as well, but I don’t find you frightening in the slightest.”

“…because you stand an equal chance of killing me as I do you.”

Xichen offered a soft chuckle, shaking his head dismissively. “I believe it has more to do with confidence.” After a searching look, he added softly, “Could it be that the person on your mind has expressed fear toward you?”

Mingjue huffed, taking another drink of wine. “He hasn’t ‘expressed’ it, no.”

“…but you suspect he feels it?”

Mingjue scowled down at his cup without answering. Xichen seemed to take this as answer enough, nodding slightly.

“I have never found this topic an easy one myself,” Xichen admitted with an embarrassed smile, and Mingjue caught a hint of red edging at his ears. “But from what I have heard, if you are honest and open, things will eventually work out.”

“…it’s not that I want anything,” Mingjue grumbled.

“No?”

He shook his head and took another drink. “I don’t know what he wants. He’s quiet. Diligent. One of the best minds for tactics I’ve seen…and he’s not weak by any means, but his cultivation is poor… Why would someone like that want me? Xichen…am I attractive to men?”

Xichen looked quite pale by the end of Mingjue’s slightly slurred explanation of the problem. His lips parted slowly. “Da-ge…it’s not…could you be speaking about A-Ya-“

“Xichen,” Mingjue growled. “Do not finish that sentence.”

“But-“

“I’ll say this once: I’d sooner gut myself and hang by my intestines. It’s not him.”

A significant sigh of relief from Xichen this time. “Well…I can’t say with any certainty, but…although I think you have many fine qualities, Da-ge, I don’t think any of them would be particularly appealing to men more than women.”

Mingjue sighed, taking one last drink before getting up to leave. “Agreed. So either he’s lying, or there’s something wrong with him then.”

Xichen seemed to want to contradict that but Mingjue merely turned and staggered from the banquet hall. Instead of his own room, though, he found his feet carrying him to his myrmidon’s quarters. He stood outside it for some time, leaning on the door and thinking about the twenty-five years of his life that had led to this point. Contemplating asking a male subordinate to become a casual sexual partner. There must be something wrong with him.

But as he stood there, for no good reason his mind cast itself back to the moment he had been deceived into thinking Meng Yao had tried to take his own life. He now knew it was planned. A practiced and impeccably acted last-ditch effort to escape censure for his crimes. But in that moment, as Meng Yao’s face twisted in despair from Mingjue’s disapproval and the prospect of his ambitions ending with execution, and pain at the blade he himself thrust into his stomach, he had seemed utterly bare. There had been nothing false in that expression. And it had broken Mingjue’s heart.

This was yet another secret he could tell no one about Meng Yao. That even after he knew how well he lied, how he used everyone around him and how he likely truly cared for no one, Mingjue was not able to stop his heart from being moved by him. This, in truth, was the core of his anger.

He knocked on the door of the myrmidons’ quarters. A few seconds later, one of the lower-level servants answered. “Clan Leader?” he said blearily, obviously about to go to sleep.

“Go get Kang Ruien.”

The man nodded and ducked back inside the room. A few moments later, the half-Sogdian appeared in the doorway wearing only a night robe, his hair braided and resting on one shoulder. He looked up at Mingjue with his slightly drooping and clearly foreign eyes, barely showing any expression but seeming to know why he was there. 

Mingjue said nothing but took him by the wrist and guided him back to his own room. 

Mingjue finally let go of his myrmidon’s arm once they were inside, and wandered over to his bed, where he sat down and leaned back against the headboard, tiredly. Kang Ruien closed the door behind them and then came to stand at the entrance to the bedroom. He seemed to be waiting for clear orders. Mingjue just sighed. 

“You want instructions? You seemed confident you know how this works earlier. Well? Help me get rid of some yang energy then.”

Ruien nodded, as usual not showing much change in his expression. Ruien clearly had very little alike with Jin Guangyao, and among other things he clearly lacked his social skills. Mingjue too was not the most perceptive, so to be honest he had noticed his presence very little up to now. But the man who carefully approached him and lightly rested his hands on Mingjue’s ribs was some kind of incubus that he had never met. 

“I’m going to undress you then,” Ruien said in an intimate voice that made Mingjue’s chest feel somewhat light and anxious, though his expression remained unchanged. 

Ruien’s hands moved with neither hurry nor hesitation, untying Mingjue’s belt, parting his upper clothes, removing his shoes and socks one at a time and then finally his lower garments. This done, Ruien did briefly admire the appearance of Mingjue’s mostly naked body, but then he climbed onto the bed and parted his knees to rest on either side of Mingjue’s hips, resting part of his weight on Mingjue’s lap.

“Why are you still dressed?” Mingjue asked irritably, feeling exposed.

Finally, Ruien’s expression changed somewhat as worry crossed his face. He shook his head. “It might kill your passion to see my body,” he muttered.

If he had been asked whether that was true yesterday, probably Mingjue would have agreed. But at this moment, though he would bite his tongue sooner than admit it, he was already feeling heat pooling in the center of his body at Ruien’s closeness, his weight against Mingjue’s thighs, and the casual way he had been saying such bold things to him lately.

Ruien pressed a kiss to Mingjue’s lips. Mingjue’s head was already swimming from the whole situation, but now his lips felt hot even after Ruien stopped touching them. He didn’t really have the presence of mind to respond, so Ruien gently kissed him again. 

Mingjue wanted to blame the alcohol, but he could tell the tingling of his skin was due to the warm body resting against his. He relaxed into Ruien’s careful touches, feeling a warm sense of comfort. Ruien’s touch became a little bolder at this, his kisses more insistent and both hands squeezing down lightly on Mingjue’s shoulders. As much as he felt comforted, the equal sense that someone who needed him was relying on him also brought out his protective instinct, and soon he forgot why he objected to this in the first place. But the more Ruien touched him, the more Mingjue got the sense that there was more to this for him than just helping out his clan leader. 

During a moment when they both paused for ragged breaths, Mingjue frowned up at him and asked with the bluntness of a drunkard, “Do you like me?”

Ruien’s eyes briefly widened, but he quickly controlled his expression. He might not be an actor, but he was clearly practiced at removing emotion from his face. “That’s not it. I only want to help,” he said softly.

“Hn,” Mingjue commented impassively. “Well, whatever.”

He pulled Ruien back down by the back of his neck, and this time invaded his mouth with his tongue. Of course he had never done this before, but more than a few times he had overheard his men talking of how much better it felt than simple kissing. It was indeed pleasant. But what he enjoyed even more was the surprised gasp and nervous movements of Ruien on top of him. 

In moments, Ruien seemed to relax against him and became pliable in his hands. But when Mingjue became encouraged by this and slid his hand around Ruien’s waist, the smaller man gasped and pulled away. Covering his mouth with the back of his hand as if he had just uttered a curse, he panted for a moment. Then he slid down Mingjue’s body, resting his hands on either side of his hips and sitting between this legs on the bed. 

“It…may be useful to think of someone else,” he murmured. And then without hesitation, he slid Mingjue’s half-hard cock into his mouth.

Mingjue gritted his teeth, holding back a gasp. He closed his eyes. Swallowed. A heavy breath escaped him. Then a shuddering gasp. Then he could hear little else but his own ragged breaths and the wet noises from beneath him of Ruien’s mouth swallowing him over and over. 

He had imagined sex many times before, but always interrupted himself out of the need to concentrate on more important things. From what he heard, it was good enough that people would fight and die over it. Even so, after now knowing how this felt, he somehow felt as if he had been cheated. It was as if he had never known the taste of food before, and now suddenly discovering the taste of a ripe and sunwarmed fig. His insides felt as if they were burning, but he didn’t want it to stop. His skin seemed to drip like honey. He had a brief moment of sober clarity that told him this made him too vulnerable. But then his pleasure began to build and he could think of nothing else.

He couldn’t stop from grabbing the back of Ruien’s hair and his shoulder. He grunted and ruthlessly held him down as a wave of frightening pleasure rolled over him. To his credit, though he coughed slightly at the sensation of the hot liquid striking the back of his throat, Ruien barely reacted. When Mingjue slowly released him, he only pulled back so that Mingjue’s cock wasn’t striking the back of his throat. He swallowed his cum and even sucked out the remaining cum from his tip until Mingjue felt utterly drained.

Ruien seemed somewhat lost as he touched his own lower lip and gazed listlessly at the bed in front of him. But at this angle, and with his simple night robe, Mingjue could see that helping Mingjue had had a similar effect on Ruien’s own body. Though very sleepy after cumming while drunk, Mingjue let out an irritated noise and pulled Ruien back up onto his lap.

“Ah…” Ruien muttered in surprise. And then, when Mingjue’s large hand wrapped around his slightly smaller member, “Ah! C-…Clan Leader…please, I don’t…need…ngh!”

Mingjue growled, his head already starting to ache from exhaustion. “You’re too loud.”

Ruien clasped a hand over his mouth and helplessly trembled, his forehead resting against Mingjue’s shoulder, as Mingjue stroked him the way he himself liked it. If he had a little more energy, the way Ruien was shaking and clinging to him, gasping softly in his ear, would likely have made him want to continue. 

But only moments after Mingjue had started touching him, Ruien’s fingers bit into his skin and a heavy gasp escaped him. “Clan Leader…Nie…!”

Mingjue slowed his pace and squeezed him slowly to allow him to cum completely as Ruien had done for him. But as the younger man panted and trembled against him, Mingjue’s tiredness finally got the better of him. 

He pulled the warm body against him as he turned over onto his side. He was naked and Carp Tower was slightly chilly at this time of year, so Ruien’s warmth in his arms made it the perfect temperature. He let his other thoughts drain away as he relaxed into a deep sleep for the first time in a long time. 

…

Ruien felt frozen as he was used as a hot water bottle by his clan leader, who had just allowed him to suck his cock, and had even stroked him until he came. He wanted to shake his head in disbelief, but he was terrified of moving even a little in case it disturbed Nie Mingjue’s descent into slumber. It was quite uncomfortable to be honest, Nie Mingjue’s body was both heavy and incredibly hard to the touch. But at the same time, he felt he could die of happiness.

If it never happened again, or even if Mingjue remembered nothing of this tomorrow, he should still be grateful, he told himself. He closed his eyes and savored the feeling of Mingjue’s tree-like arms around him, the heat of his skin and the masculine scent of his body. He was too excited to sleep, but he didn’t care about that either.

At one point, Mingjue’s arm shifted, and part of the clothing that he still had on over his shoulder slipped in front of Ruien. He felt something very light fall to the bed in front of his chest, and with it came a pleasantly sweet scent. He looked down in shock. 

From the bed, in disbelief, he slowly picked up the blue orchid he had given his clan leader this afternoon. He was so stunned at the idea that Nie Mingjue had kept it throughout the day that he wondered briefly whether this were the same flower. But who else would have given him one? 

The answer occurred to him in the form of the smiling face that Nie Mingjue had been glowering at whenever he was nearby all day that day. It was true, if anyone had access to rare and auspicious flowers, it was the wealthy and powerful Jin. But Ruien shook himself. If Jin Guangyao were to give someone a flower, he reminded himself, it would be a peony. 

Not only that, he thought with a long and painful outward breath, but indeed it was only a flower. Something Nie Mingjue had never wanted or needed before today, and which was probably a meaningless and brief amusement. Despite this thought, and even though it had originally been a gift from a maiden for Ruien himself, he brought the bloom close and touched its petals against his lips.


	3. A Light amid the Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A peek inside the mind of Jin Guangyao.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Unwanted sexual touching in the last scene of this chapter. (Nie Mingjue x Jin Guangyao, incident marked with ***)

For some people, the world seemed full of vibrant light and color. Wei Wuxian was such a person. Much more blessed than he ever realized, of course. But for Jin Guangyao, despite his many talents, what others did effortlessly came to him only with extreme difficulty. Ever since he had been beaten unconscious by one of his mother’s patrons as a child, his ability to feel anything at all for other human beings had become severely impaired. A sea of human faces around him became like lumps of wood, without significance.

At first, he felt grateful for this change of heart. He found it removed any fear or guilt he had about taking revenge or manipulating those around him to his advantage. It made survival, even success, far easier to secure. It would take a long time, and encounters with the two who would become his sworn brothers, for him to realize the extent of what he had lost. 

At the moment, he was contriving to “accidentally” run into his former senior servant, Kang Ruien. His spies had informed him that Ruien left Mingjue’s quarters early in the morning in a certain state of disarray. Though this occurrence mattered little to him on its own, he had a feeling Kang Ruien might prove either extremely useful or extremely problematic. It was necessary to do a little more legwork on him. 

Knowing that Ruien would be expected to use the servant’s office in order to prepare Nie Mingjue’s itinerary for the day, Jin Guangyao invented a reason to be there himself at the same time.

“Master Kang, good morning,” he said pleasantly as he entered the office, a room of desks separated by nooks filled with blank parchment and bamboo strips. 

Kang Ruien’s head only turned slightly in his direction, showing more suspicion than interest at his presence. Despite their current difference in status, he said nothing to greet him. 

Nevertheless, Guangyao continued effortlessly, “I won’t disturb you. I only came to prepare my clan leader’s itinerary, as I imagine you are as well.”

Apparently satisfied by this, or at least lacking the interest to probe further, Ruien’s head lowered and he continued the writing he had been doing when Guangyao entered. Jin Guangyao smiled and took a seat at a distant desk, at first merely performing the task he mentioned. For a time, the office was silent but for the distant sound of wakening birds in the early morning, and the humble scratch of brush strokes.

“Ah yes,” Guangyao said, lifting his brush at one point. “It’s good that you’re here. Does Da-ge plan to inspect the Qiongqi prison facilities this afternoon with Clan Leader Jin?”

Kang Ruien’s brush stopped as well. At first it seemed he would not answer. And then, very softly, “You still have Wen prisoners?”

“I’m surprised Da-ge would not have mentioned it,” Guangyao said, skillfully feigning surprise. “Perhaps he considers the matter settled.”

Ruien’s jaw shifted with dissatisfaction for a moment. “…the combatants are all dead,” he said softly.

Guangyao let his mask drop just a little, to tap into the very real pain which he needed to share with Ruien in this moment in order to show humanity. “Yes,” he agreed. 

“Then who have you imprisoned?”

Guangyao’s mind was filled with images he had seen only a few days previous, of parentless children weeping with no one to comfort them. Of the sick falling by the wayside, likely never to rise. Of the ancient and broken shuffling forward endlessly, as if marching toward their own oblivion. 

“…non-combatants,” he said simply. And because the parentless children in particular were not a horror he was capable of dismissing easily, the note of despair in his voice was real. “The irreducible minimum, I’m afraid. Some surviving clan members were pushed to a small territory to live relatively normally. But anyone believed to have a possible connection to yin iron cannot be set free.”

Ruien listened motionlessly, and seemed to take a moment to gather his thoughts. Guangyao was perfectly aware that someone of mixed parentage and born out of war would not be able to bear such talk without a reaction. What he did not expect was the name that emerged from him once the emotion had boiled down.

“…you mean like Xue Yang?” Ruien muttered.

Guangyao blinked back at him at the abrupt mention. After a moment of thought, he decided Ruien must be loyally taking Nie Mingjue’s side against Jin Guangshan, having a moral objection to taking on the known criminal as a disciple. Interesting, given that Ruien’s feelings about the Wen survivors would almost certainly make him opposed to Mingjue’s stance.

“Ah…” Guangyao said with a difficult smile. “Master Kang is very astute. I do believe that has something to do with Clan Leader Jin’s decision to take him in, yes.”

Ruien sighed irritably in a rare show of emotion for him. But after adding a few more characters, he blew on the bamboo strip he had been writing on and tied it with the others he had finished, rolling them up and getting to his feet.

He gave a cursory bow. “Lianfang-zun.”

Guangyao bowed his head graciously. But as Ruien reached the door, he added lightly, “Oh and do be cautious, Master Kang. If you wish your relationship to remain a secret, in future it is best to leave before dawn light, in the hour of the tiger.”

Ruien stopped in the doorway, barely moving for a moment. His fingers slowly tightened over the bamboo strips in his hand. Guangyao could feel, even with his face turned away, that his gaze flicked in Guangyao’s direction. After a steadying breath, his grasp loosened. He seemed to decide he would lose in any open conflict with Jin Guangyao. He turned and left without a word.

Guangyao calmly turned back to his own desk and finished writing out his father’s itinerary. 

…

In a world of faceless lumps of wood, there was one heavenly creature who seemed to stand apart from all others. While in his presence, Jin Guangyao at least had the illusion that he could feel things as a human being did. 

Lan Xichen’s long and slender fingers captured Guangyao’s attention as they corrected his form slightly on his guqin. Xichen smiled up at him and nodded for him to try the passage again. 

With a flicker of some uncomfortable emotion that he struggled to identify in himself, Guangyao took in a breath and began to play softly. Xichen closed his eyes to listen and so Guangyao was able to watch him without interruption. Guangyao was not one to be especially inspired by physical beauty, but no one could look at Lan Xichen’s face and feel nothing. He seemed partly divine, his white robes only a pale imitation of the light he cast just with his presence.

The angel’s eyes fluttered open and Guangyao quickly returned his attention to his instrument. Xichen nodded his approval. “Much improved. You are very rewarding to have as a student, A-Yao. You remember anything after being told only once.”

Guangyao smiled, but it was an empty one. He set his guqin aside, thinking it would trouble Xichen to ask for any more instruction today. “As with anything else, imitation is likely the highest achievement possible for me.”

Xichen sighed. “I wish you would have more confidence in yourself.”

“Within Er-ge’s presence, I feel ever so lacking,” Guangyao said with a light chuckle. “By the way, is your uncle’s health improving?”

“He is quite well. He has already reminded the disciples why they feared him so before the Sunshot Campaign,” Xichen added with a soft laugh. 

Guangyao laughed a little with him and once again admired Xichen’s kind face. He would happily do so all day. After a moment though, Xichen’s expression changed slightly and his gaze became cast down. There was color touching at his cheeks. Guangyao briefly wondered whether he had somehow done something wrong. 

“On…the subject of the campaign…Da-ge was asking me some strange questions last night,” said the beautiful man, in a halting voice that was not like him. 

“How unusual of him. For example?”

Xichen cleared his throat, the color in his cheeks increasing. “Oh…I shouldn’t bother you with the details. Only it seems he…is troubled by a certain person. Troubled in a pleasant sense, if you catch my meaning.”

It was hard work to seem surprised at this, but Guangyao thought he managed it. “Da-ge? Are you sure?”

Xichen tilted his head doubtfully. “He himself seems ambivalent on the matter. But in many ways he resembles Wangji, so I often feel I know what he is thinking before he does himself. Perhaps that is too presumptuous.”

“If there is anyone I trust to read Da-ge’s thoughts, it is certainly you, Er-ge.”

“A-Yao…I have heard…during the campaign, that you met someone as well.”

Guangyao had tried to prepare himself for this topic, but found he had not done so sufficiently. It took him half a second longer than he intended to form a pleasant smile. “Lady Qin Su, yes.”

Lan Xichen’s expression slowly lost its color and he gazed silently at the floor for some time before eventually nodding. He attempted a smile, but Guangyao’s stomach twisted at how unconvincing it was. “How nice,” he said. Guangyao could have imagined it, but for a moment he thought Xichen had been about to say something else.

Guangyao shook his head dismissively. He reached over to the nearby table and poured a cup of tea each for Xichen and himself. “It is not a favorable match for her. Even with considerable cajoling, I doubt her father will agree.”

“…but you will still try?”

Guangyao considered as he placed Xichen’s cup in front of him. He gave a half nod. “I think so. I could hardly hope for a better match from my perspective. And of course it doesn’t hurt that she is exceedingly pleasant and kind.”

“…you do not love her,” Xichen guessed softly.

Guangyao actually chuckled a little. “Er-ge. I admire your family’s romanticism very much. But not all of us have the luxury. She is of the right age, of noble birth, she likes me very much, and it is likely we will have many healthy children. There is little more I could ask for.”

Xichen silently watched the steam rise from his tea for some time, but did not reach for it. “And…if there were someone…who could give you love, status and companionship, but not the last of those things you mentioned…what then?”

Guangyao’s fingers tightened around his tea cup. He could hear his own heart, feel it rising up in his throat and making his skin feel hot. Xichen was not skilled at hiding his emotions. Once or twice, Guangyao had felt this dark inkling before, when Xichen treated him with even more affection than his usual, polite self. An inkling that somehow, this angel viewed the monster known as Jin Guangyao with more than even friendship or brotherhood. This thought was one of the only ones left that still made Guangyao feel the emotion called “panic.”

Coldly, Guangyao smiled as if he had no idea of what he had just seen in Xichen’s face. “Impossible,” he said lightly. “I am surprised you would suggest such a thing, Er-ge. It is not very filial. Doesn’t that contradict the Lan precepts?”

Xichen seemed to take a moment to recover from the shock of what Guangyao had just said. Eventually, he shook his head. “Our line is not hereditary…” he said numbly.

“That’s right, forgive me,” Guangyao said. “But after all, no matter how heavenly the Cloud Recesses may be, the world below is still one of blood. I don’t intend to be the last of my line.”

Somehow, the faultlessly polite Xichen didn’t answer. Guangyao felt the panic continuing to rise inside him with the silence which followed. He could not deny the thrill that filled him at the thought of Xichen’s attention turning toward him. But he could never allow such imaginings to come to fruition. 

“Er-ge. You must be getting home soon. Let me see you out.”

Xichen briefly closed his eyes. He shook his head. “Don’t worry, A-Yao. I can find my own way.”

Unusually, he did not even offer a promise to see him again soon. Guangyao felt a swell of fear. As much as he could not permit Xichen to be sullied by any deeper association with him, he was just as frightened of losing his friendship entirely. He had purposefully chosen words that would make Xichen despair at any romantic connection. But what if he were so hurt that he couldn’t stand his presence anymore?

While Guangyao was still agonizing over this issue, Jin Guangshan threw a banquet which kept him more than busy enough to distract him. Unfortunately, this particular banquet was the one which spurred Wei Wuxian’s final break with orthodoxy. After having to restrain himself from wanting to strangle Jin Zixun for bullying the Lan siblings and trying to get them to drink, Jin Guangyao was present with almost all other heads of the major clans to see Wei Wuxian’s raging argument with Jin Guangshan over the treatment of the Wen prisoners. 

…

Nie Mingjue was also present for the start of Wei Wuxian’s spiral of self-destruction. He admired many things about Wei Wuxian, and would probably have been more vocal in his support, if only the people he was trying to save were not Wen-dogs. For that, there was no excuse. 

Since he had woken up the morning after Kang Ruien’s “assistance” alone, and had not been approached by him since, he assumed his deputy had come to his senses. He was sure that was for the best. Unfortunately for Mingjue, it was clear to him as soon as he woke up that day that his condition had improved from the “expelling of yang energy.” Which meant that since then, after having a breath of relief, his anger and the yang qi inside him had been churning to the point that he had no patience at all. And yet the viper Jin Guangyao still had the nerve to show his face in front of him.

Hours later, news came to the banquet of what Wei Wuxian had done. The reports varied significantly, but all agreed about two things: the Wen boy, Wen Ning, had risen from the dead and slaughtered his former guards, and Wei Wuxian’s power with the Stygian Tiger Seal was beyond imagining. 

Mingjue intended to stay in Carp Tower for the time being and assist with whatever the Chief Cultivator decided to do about this, and a room was prepared for him as usual. Yet as he was walking down a hall toward his quarters, intending to soothe his thoughts with some meditation, he spotted something that made his blood boil. 

At the end of the hall, one barely visible behind a pillar, two men were standing in a way that was far too intimate for friends. Yet there was a sense of threat about their stance as well. Though both wore sparks-amidst-snow, Mingjue recognized the taller man immediately as being yet another source of anger for him. The brigand, Xue Yang. 

He could not see the face of the man he was menacing from this angle, but he hardly needed to. As he watched, Xue Yang drew even closer and seemed to inhale the scent of the other man’s neck, curling his fingers in his hair. Delicate hands rose and at first seemed to squeeze down on his shoulders encouragingly. But then they pushed him back. 

Xue Yang huffed in childish frustration. He glanced over at Mingjue as he spotted him, but rather than engage him, he merely walked off with a grin. 

Jin Guangyao emerged from the other side of the pillar, straightening his clothing and making sure there was no evidence of Xue Yang’s vulgar touch on him. Mingjue’s anger reached boiling point at the blank and emotionless expression with which Jin Guangyao conducted himself when he believed he was unobserved. 

Without hesitation, Nie Mingjue grabbed Jin Guangyao by his wrist and dragged him into a small study close at hand. 

He threw the small and delicate man to the floor and slammed the door shut behind them. While Guangyao was still trying to recover, Mingjue grabbed him by his collar and threw him onto a cushioned bench, where he stood looming over him. He grew even angrier somehow at the fact that, once he recognized who was doing this to him, Guangyao didn’t seem even slightly surprised.

Jin Guangyao gingerly touched his lip, which appeared slightly swollen from how he had fallen. His eyes flicked up to Mingjue, but without interest. “Da-ge,” he said tonelessly. “What have I done now?”

“Snake,” Mingjue snarled. “You want us to think this is all for your father. Some childish wish to be accepted. You’re still trying to fool everyone.”

Guangyao glanced up at him, at least appearing to be confused. “This is news to me, Da-ge. Could you tell me how I am ‘fooling’ everyone?”

“You don’t care about acceptance. You hate him as much as anyone,” Mingjue growled. Increasing his fury, Guangyao showed little reaction to this. “You’d do all of this anyway, because you’re the kind of scum who enjoys toying with people.”

Guangyao sighed, lowering his gaze. “I’m sorry, Da-ge, I’m not following.”

“Xue Yang!” Mingjue roared, slamming his fist against a nearby desk and sending a crack shuddering through the wood. “All this time, you tried to claim it was your father’s order to keep him. But you had other ideas in mind, didn’t you? How long have you been toying with Xichen’s feelings while sleeping with that scoundrel?!”

All trace of amusement faded from Jin Guangyao’s face. When he looked up at that moment, Mingjue actually shuddered. He suddenly had the feeling he was meeting this person for the first time: a dark creature of whom even he should be afraid. 

“Accuse me of anything you like,” he said in his delicate voice, yet with none of his usual honeyed charm. His cool brown eyes revealed no emotion at all, yet they struck Mingjue as if leaving a physical wound. “But do not talk to me of Er-ge. You have no idea…what I have done to protect him. What I continue to do. I would sooner die than-“

“Your split mouth drips honey from one side and poison from the other,” Mingjue snarled. “You can’t expect me to believe a single thing you say.”

Guangyao’s eyes slowly lowered. “That is true. So what can I do?”  
***  
Mingjue was not himself. He was not thinking as he should, his blood fired up and boiling inside him, seeking some violent release. With equal rage and pity, his eyes caught on the redness of Guangyao’s lip. Before he knew what he was doing, he snatched the beautiful, lying creature up and savagely kissed him. 

“Mmmgah!” Guangyao cried, violently pulling and scratching at him, trying to get away. “Stop! Mmm…hah! Why…?!”

Mingjue brutally grasped him by his chin, with such a difference in their sizes that he could snap Guangyao’s neck with no effort at all. “If you truly cared for Xichen, you wouldn’t feel anything when someone else touched you.” So saying, he snaked his hand inside Guangyao’s robes and grasped him in a place that made him gasp. “Go on, you charlatan. Show your true colors.”

While Guangyao was shaking with fear and rage, still desperately trying to get away from him, Mingjue hungrily ducked down and bit into the skin of his neck, holding him securely with one arm while he assaulted him with the other. 

“Ngh…stop…no…” Guangyao cried, twisting every way he could to get away. There was a soft sound of sobbing in his voice, and then to Mingjue’s surprise, he practically screamed, “Er-ge!”

The blood was in Mingjue’s ears and he did not stop what he was doing, even as a few moments later, Xichen burst in and physically dragged Mingjue off him. Xichen was staring at him, seeming unable to form words. But as the haze of Mingjue’s mind started to clear, Xichen knelt on the ground beside Guangyao, who had crumpled there trembling as soon as Mingjue’s hands were off him. 

Even though no one would ever convince him that Jin Guangyao didn’t deserve any hardship he could think of, from the look on Xichen’s face, Mingjue had the thought that one wrong didn’t necessarily warrant another. 

Without even a glance at Mingjue, Xichen carefully gathered up the shell-shocked Jin Guangyao into his arms. He passed by Mingjue to leave the room, and still said nothing, acting as if he were not there. It was the coldest he had ever treated him. Mingjue brought a hand over his eyes to try to regain some presence of mind, and determine just how bad what he had just done was.


	4. Waterfall in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruien attempts to comfort Nie Mingjue, who is even more outraged at Xichen's continued defense of Jin Guangyao.

It had now been nearly two months since Mingjue had allowed Ruien to share his bed, and he had not asked for him again in that time. Ruien was starting to work up the courage to offer again, but that was the day that Wei Wuxian attacked the Qionqi prison. After overhearing wild stories from different sources, Ruien heard the servants of Carp Tower talking about being too afraid to approach the Red Blade Master, even though he was in one of the Jin clan members’ private studies. Ruien hurried to find him.

When he arrived, Mingjue was sitting on a bench with his head drooped, as if he were too exhausted to lift it. But his breath was still high as if he had recently exerted himself. As he entered, Ruien spotted a Mingjue’s-fist-sized mark in a cracked hardwood table. He sighed. 

He knelt on the floor where Mingjue could see him in his peripheral vision. “Clan Leader. We’ll be troubling Jin Peiqi if we stay here,” he said, referencing the owner of this room.

Mingjue let out a breath of frustration and rubbed his temples. 

Ruien could see even from this angle that his eyes were bloodshot. He grew concerned as he drew in close and felt an unusual amount of heat rising from Mingjue’s body. He mumbled a request for forgiveness but quickly pressed the back of his fingers to Mingjue’s forehead. It was almost painfully hot.

“Can you ride your sword?” he asked worriedly. 

Perhaps because he felt unwell, Mingjue nodded with unusual obedience. Ruien guided him outside and both mounted their swords. He kept an eye out to make sure Mingjue didn’t fall as they flew beyond the civilized parts of the city around Carp Tower and into the nearby mountainous region. As soon as he spotted a suitable place, he led his clan leader down. 

They stopped at the foot of a clear pool beneath a small waterfall. Mingjue looked up blearily at it for a moment and then he realized why they were here. He sighed heavily in self-deprecation. 

Without being told, Mingjue sheathed Baxia and passed it to Ruien. He pulled out the diadem from his hair and set it on the rocky shore beneath him. With his hair loose, he appeared even more than usual like a wild man. One by one he stripped off each of his garments until he wore only a pair of drawstring trousers. He walked into the cold water without hesitation. He stood directly under the waterfall and let his head hang low as the mountain stream pounded against his shoulders and slowly brought down the heat in his body.

Ruien sat down, laying Baxia across his lap to wait patiently on the shore. The sky had already been growing dark when they arrived, and in the forest it quickly grew uncomfortably cold and forbidding. Little sounds of insects or rodents became subtly ominous. Ruien used a small talisman to produce a floating flame which lit the area at least enough that he could see Mingjue.

After so long that Ruien could hardly feel his fingers or face, Mingjue’s head finally lifted. He stepped out of the water back toward the shore. By the time he reached it, he was at last beginning to shiver. Ruien removed his outer garment and used it to wipe most of the moisture from Mingjue’s body before handing him each of his clothes to put back on. 

When Mingjue was dressed, though still shivering, he looked around as if not entirely sure why he was here. He sighed. “I did something to Jin Guangyao,” he admitted softly.

Ruien did not know what to say to that. His first instinct was fear, knowing how formidable Jin Guangyao was and how those who stood in his way inevitably met bitter ends. But something was off in Nie Mingjue’s phrasing. Indeed, he had beaten and even attempted to kill Jin Guangyao more than once, without the slightest guilt. Why would he comment on the fact now?

“…did you hurt him?”

Mingjue hesitated. “Not like that.”

This response was even stranger. He had done something, but not caused physical pain? Not to put too fine a point on it, but Mingjue was too honest and frankly too simple-minded to purposefully hurt someone emotionally. Ruien had a sinking feeling as he started to realize there were few possibilities left for what he meant.

He swallowed, casting his gaze down at Mingjue’s feet. “…you raped him?”

“No,” Mingjue said firmly. But he did not expand on that objection. The guilt lingering on his face told Ruien all the remaining information that he needed to know.

“…so you tried to.”

Mingjue growled and held his head in his hand. “I wouldn’t…if I hadn’t been so angry with him, I would never have…”

In these words, though he knew Mingjue was nothing like him, Ruien had a flashback of his Han father. His mood swings had terrorized Ruien and his Sogdian mother, and when he was angry it was always some small thing. When he hurt them, it was inevitably their fault. Though he would always cry and apologize later, his apologies always ended with blame, saying they shouldn’t have made him angry.

“…bad men blame their actions on momentary anger,” Ruien said softly. And then, as if to reassure himself, “You are not like that, Clan Leader. Your heart is pure, and so you do not regret your actions, even when they cause strife. You pride yourself on straightforward behavior.”

Mingjue’s jaw tightened. “Don’t make it sound like I wanted to do that. I don’t want him!”

Ruien slowly shook his head, though feeling in his heart a chasm of coldness opening up inside him. “Each time you deny it, the block in your heart that diverts all your emotion to anger will grow stronger.”

“I hate him!” Mingjue shouted, his bellowing voice echoing through the dark forest around them.

“…yes. But not only hate.”

With this, Mingjue curled in on himself and crouched down, making noises of frustration as if his head was hurting. Ruien crouched down and set his hands on his shoulders, gently urging him to stand. 

“Your body is too cold now. We must get back to Carp Tower,” he said.

After a few moments to control his breathing, Mingjue managed to get to his feet again. He followed Ruien’s example and mounted his sword, and they flew back to Carp Tower in the dark. Once they reached Mingjue’s quarters, Ruien hurriedly set about undressing Mingjue, wiping him down of river water and clothing him in clean, warm clothes. He was about to leave when Mingjue pulled him close. 

Neither said anything at some length. The silence of Carp Tower at night felt heavy, at all times seething with something rather than the simple stillness of the Unclean Realm. It made both men unconsciously uneasy, so this physical contact brought an unexpected sense of ease. In the way he was holding him now, with a gentleness that Ruien did not know Mingjue was capable of, he felt almost like he was being apologized to.

“Don’t go,” Mingjue said at length.

Despite the pain at knowing he was not the one his clan leader wanted, and surely would never be, hearing these words from him still made his heart ache with joy. He gently grasped Mingjue’s forearm as it rested across his chest and squeezed it reassuringly. He nodded. 

With gentle gestures, he urged Mingjue to get into bed, and allowed him to pull him close as he had done the previous time. Ruien actually found it quite reassuring that Mingjue still felt a little cold from the waterfall. It meant that the yang energy in his body had not surged again. In the equally soothing and somewhat stifling grasp of his powerful clan leader, Ruien fell into an uneasy sleep beside him.

…

“…A-Yao…A-Yao…?”

Jin Guangyao blinked after hearing his name repeated for perhaps the third time. He gasped at the closeness of the speaker, instinctively backing away. It was only then he realized that he wasn’t in that study with Nie Mingjue anymore, but sitting on a bench in his own chamber, with Lan Xichen kneeling on the floor before him. 

He looked away in shame, disbelieving that he had let a relatively minor encounter rattle him so. After all, Nie Mingjue had done worse things to him before. Others had touched him that way before too, at times even against his will. Perhaps he had become complacent after being accepted by the Jin. His new social power had given him the false impression that he stood any chance against Nie Mingjue’s brutal strength.

But he quickly realized that his reaction was unnerving Lan Xichen. He swallowed and offered an embarrassed smile. “Er-ge…thank you, for just now.”

“…blood…” Xichen muttered almost inaudibly.

“Hm?”

“A-Yao…let me see your hand.’

Not even knowing which hand he was talking about, Guangyao opened both his palms. He didn’t realize until he looked down that his hands were shaking. Xichen gently took his right hand and turned it over again. Now Guangyao could see what he meant. The nail of his right middle finger had an ugly red line down it, and was slowly dripping blood onto the floor beneath them. He also thought the shape of his thumb looked a little odd.

But more distressing to Jin Guangyao than these injuries was the look on Xichen’s face as he observed them. All his divinity seemed dimmed. He looked as if he might cry, but could not face his own emotions in order to do so.

“Your nail is split,” Xichen whispered numbly. “And…I think your thumb may be broken.”

Though Guangyao was currently having just as much trouble sorting through his emotions, his instincts kicked in and he was able to respond normally. “…so it is,” he said with hopefully typical grace. “Considering what could have happened, I should be very grateful the injuries are so minor.”

Xichen tightly closed his eyes. His eyelashes were trembling against his cheeks. “This is not minor. These are not passive defense injuries. You did this to yourself, trying to get away even if it cost you the use of your fingers.” In an almost inaudible whisper, he added, “You must have been terrified.”

Guangyao was instinctively shaking his head, unable to form a response. Guilt and self-disgust were building in his chest until it was difficult to breathe. All he could think was that Xichen should not be making that face. 

“Of all the ways he has bullied you in the past…I never thought he would stoop to this,” Xichen went on, and this time anger and determination were visible flickering in his eyes. “You must never be alone with him again.”

Finally, Jin Guangyao’s mind caught up with him and he shook his head dismissively. “Er-ge…you’re exaggerating. In any case, I don’t think doing this was his own will. His yang energy is flaring again. It is my own fault for being so slow in learning the Song of Clarity, otherwise I would already be playing it for him.”

Xichen looked down at Jin Guangyao’s hand, still held gingerly in his own. He frowned and shook his head. “You won’t be playing again for some time.”

Guangyao’s stomach churned at this realization. His plan had been very carefully set. It had felt so perfect. There were so few ways to get close to Nie Mingjue, and his father was already getting impatient. If he delayed, would his position once again sink down to when he was barely even treated as human? Rumors and filthy epithets ringing in his ears at every waking moment? Totally alone?

“I’ll share some spiritual energy to heal you, and help you to sleep,” Xichen said, touching his own forehead to draw out spiritual energy, and then pressing his fingers lightly to Jin Guangyao’s wrist.

“No, Er-ge…thank you, but my duties-“

“I will stand in for you with Jin Guangshan. You will not lose face,” Xichen said, his eyes cast down with worry. “Please be at ease, A-Yao. I will not let harm befall you.”

As fearful as he was of disappointing Jin Guangshan, the touch of Xichen’s spiritual energy instantly soothed both his mind and body. In fact, too much so. With the healing touch of Xichen’s energy, the wound Jin Guangyao did not dare touch began to sting. 

He could not explain it, but in truth it was just as Xichen said. In those moments, he was utterly terrified. Not of physical injury, or even of the shame that would come if anyone found out. The way Mingjue had touched him, it had made him feel like an empty husk. It made his skin feel as if it were crawling with a myriad of insects. The fear went so deep that it threatened to swallow him. And as that fear was touched with healing energy, he was forced to look straight into it. 

A tear slipped down Jin Guangyao’s cheek. He would normally have been able to hold back the urge to cry by reminding himself that he was a monster who did not deserve such humble sadness. But in this small transfer of energy, he felt as if Xichen were silently reassuring him that even he could be human. 

He did manage to hold back a sob that threatened to form, but then he found himself curling up on the bench as the urge to sleep overtook him. As his consciousness faded, he couldn’t be sure whether in a dream or reality, he thought he felt Xichen’s hand sweetly caressing his cheek. 

…

The next day, Mingjue woke alone again. He levied himself up slowly, as his head was still aching. Unfamiliar shadows of morning light in his quarters in Carp Tower would not normally be so unpleasant, but seeing the shadow of a wooden relief of sparks-amidst-snow drew his mind back to last night. 

Worse, when he moved to stand up, he let out a groan of discomfort centered around the apex of his thighs. He realized he had been sexually frustrated twice last night. Perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised to wake up with the urge still present. Much though he now knew letting it out was healthier, he glanced at the shadow of the wooden peony on the ground and felt sickened. 

To solve the problem temporarily, he requested a bath full of cold water. After he bathed and dressed, he sought out a member of the Jin family who could tell him what, if anything, the Chief Cultivator had decided to do about the issue of Wei Wuxian. But the first one he encountered that morning, who emerged from Jin Guangshan’s study as if he had just been meeting with him, was in fact Lan Xichen.

“Xichen?” Mingjue said curiously at his presence there. 

Lan Xichen blinked a little at hearing his name, but he did not turn toward Mingjue. With a sensation of cold dread in the pit of his stomach, Mingjue remembered the way he had looked at him last night. Truly he had never known Xichen to show anger over anything. He was also loyal to a fault, both by nurture and by temperament. If he were still upset now, this was much worse than he feared.

“…were you meeting with Jin Guangshan?” Mingjue asked, hoping he sounded natural.

Xichen nodded. “I will be taking over some of A-Yao’s duties for a time.”

“What? Why?” Mingjue demanded. The idea of a clan leader taking over the duties of someone little more than a secretary seemed preposterous.

Xichen’s eyes slowly drew closed as if he were holding something back. He took a deep breath in and let it out. “It is necessary. Until his wounds heal.”

“…wounds…” Mingjue repeated with gathering anger. “I barely touched him! You’re telling me he’s laid up over a split lip?!”

Xichen’s gaze flicked over to rest near Mingjue’s feet on the marble floor. Though he seemed to be trying to hide it, disapproval was etched into his face. “While not directly caused by you, I do not think you can claim to be blameless of the injuries to his hands as he tried to get away from you.”

Mingjue only just realized that there had been sore spots all over his neck and shoulder for some time. He remembered the feeling of the small and fragile Jin Guangyao frantically struggling in his arms. With a flicker of discomfort in his gut, he also remembered what he had said to him as he did this. He had suggested that if Guangyao enjoyed what he was doing, he didn’t care about Xichen. He hadn’t noticed at the time, but if he had managed to bruise skin like Nie Mingjue’s, likely Jin Guangyao would have done injury to his delicate hands.

“Last night,” Xichen continued softly. “I was attempting to heal him. I let him sleep to spare him any pain. It wasn’t my intention to pry, but just to be safe I checked all his meridians while he was sleeping.”

Xichen’s expression grew tortured. If Mingjue didn’t know any better, he could swear that the impeccable Xichen was about to yell or throw something. Instead he hissed softly, “He has so many injuries.” He closed his eyes, and Mingjue felt his stomach twist as a tear slipped down his cheek. “So many that are old, and have never healed properly. One in particular.”

Zewu-jun turned to Mingjue and looked hard at him with tired eyes as he said, “There is an area of his brain where blood does not reach properly.”

“…what are you saying? That he’s an invalid?” Mingjue muttered, both bitter and confused by Xichen’s depth of sympathy for the monster. On top of that, he seemed to be saying he was impaired in his mind. Given that Jin Guangyao was likely the most brilliant mind Mingjue had ever encountered, he couldn’t possibly believe such a thing.

“I am saying that since that injury, there has never been a man named ‘Meng Yao,’” Xichen said with soft significance, as another tear ran down his cheek. “There is no way to tell how it affected him, or who he might have been if it had never happened. And to be brief, neither you nor I knows anything about him.”

“Don’t you dare invent some fantasy of who he is,” Mingjue grunted, though a flicker of guilt and concern rose up unbidden. “Even if it’s true, an ailment is no excuse for amoral behavior.” Or promiscuity, he added silently, sparing Xichen’s feelings by not saying it out loud.

“For your sake too, Da-ge, I would not like to believe that.”

Mingjue’s stomach twisted. “Mine…can be controlled,” he growled. “You said yourself there’s no way to tell how that injury affected him. It’s not the same.”

Slowly, Xichen nodded. “That is why…I will attempt to cure him.”

“Cure him!?” Mingjue roared.

“Yes. As I would do for you.” Xichen’s sad eyes watched him with at last a hint of kindness toward Mingjue, but no doubt or hesitation. “I understand why it is impossible for you to completely forgive him. But I cannot abandon him. I think he has not completely left your heart either, or you would never have made him your sworn brother.”

As Mingjue was finally, reluctantly forced to admit this inescapable truth, Xichen made his way back toward Jin Guangyao’s quarters, pausing beside Mingjue as he passed him. 

Quietly he added, “If that space for him in your heart remains…then regain your control. Until you do, do not come near him again.”

Mingjue stared at his sworn younger brother with rage restrained only by guilt. But Xichen as usual showed no fear of him. He swept by and was gone as Mingjue was still thinking of a way to object to his presumptuous suggestion that he could not control himself. Or that he needed orders from a younger brother. But Xichen’s very absence at this moment seemed to contradict Mingjue’s self-image of one who gave orders rather than received them. 

He did not know that the majority of this conversation had been observed until he turned to leave himself. He nearly ran straight into Kang Ruien. 

“Ruien…?” he muttered in surprise.

Ruien was staring expressionlessly at the floor, as he so often did. He was holding a row of tied bamboo strips, clearly having been searching for Nie Mingjue to give him his itinerary. When he felt Mingjue’s gaze on him, Ruien clasped his hands and bowed. 

“Clan Leader,” he said. He held out the itinerary in the flat of both hands.

Mingjue begrudgingly took it. And yet, for some reason he could not yet name, he felt just as guilty toward Ruien as he did toward Xichen. “…did you hear that?”

Ruien at first said nothing. He seemed to be deciding whether it was impolite to admit that he had.

“Just say it.”

Ruien nodded. “This is perhaps happy news.”

“Happy?” Mingjue snarled with incredulity. 

“It is possible that Jin Guangyao’s amorality is curable. If so, your inner conflict would be removed.”

“I have no conflict,” Mingjue insisted angrily. 

Ruien briefly glanced up at him, still without showing much facial expression, but he seemed to realize that even staring could be seen as impertinent. “Clan Leader,” he said, glancing down again. “Last night you seemed very tired, but…with respect, your yang energy still seems quite high today. Would you…permit me to help you again?”

Mingjue wanted to refuse. He had been tugged this way and that by younger men too much recently. But Xichen’s words echoed in his mind. ‘Regain your control.’ He shifted his jaw bitterly.

“…tonight?” he muttered reluctantly. 

But Ruien shook his head. “Now.”

“Now?!”

Ruien’s gaze flicked back up and him and then down again, and this time Mingjue was fairly certain it was from embarrassment. Mingjue still had great difficulty judging this man’s moods, but with this subtle gesture, he remembered the way Ruien had panted and clung to him that night. One thing that was clear, he thought, was that this half-Sogdian was devoted to him.

“The Chief Cultivator has sent out search parties to locate Wei Wuxian and report on his condition. There will be nothing to do at any rate until they return. And…last night…” Ruien swallowed. His voice was constricted by nerves as he went on, “…for much of the night…your body was…awake. It’s not healthy.”

Mingjue scoffed. “You can’t just say you’re horny, can you?”

Ruien let out a panicked breath of air as color touched his cheeks. “I…would never…”

As much as he found this topic demeaning, just talking about it had made the blood start to rise in Mingjue’s body again. But even as he found his lips parting in order to agree, his gaze turned to follow after the way Xichen had gone, toward Jin Guangyao’s rooms. Once again, an ill feeling overtook him. His jaw tightened.

“I can control it,” he growled. “And I won’t be treated like an invalid. If I want you, I’ll call for you, like any normal man. Don’t bring this up with me again.”

He swept past Ruien toward Carp Tower’s training hall, to get rid of excess energy with sword practice instead of Ruien’s “treatment.”


	5. The Unclean Realm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an attempt at an apology toward Jin Guangyao, Kang Ruien and Nie Mingjue return to Qinghe, where Mingjue's anger finally gets the better of him.

Being held by Nie Mingjue’s great arms all night suddenly seemed like a distant memory. ‘Don’t bring this up with me again,’ he had said. One by one, dissonant emotions echoed through Ruien’s heart.

Much though he had known Mingjue did not care for him, he had thought that he enjoyed that one night with him. He had touched him so gently, kissed him deeply and forcefully. For brief moments it felt as if Ruien had managed to tame the wild horse. He had felt incredibly close to him as he waited for him outside the waterfall. As he pulled him close that night and asked him not to leave. But in a few words, all that seemed to vanish like so much smoke.

With this feeling of despair also rose greater and greater anxiety. Judging from what he had done to Jin Guangyao, Nie Mingjue’s condition was getting worse. Sword practice and night hunting wouldn’t be enough. And because Ruien had shown him this outlet, he had to accept the possibility that Ruien himself might be the reason that Mingjue had tried to release it forcefully on someone else. Much though Jin Guangyao was in many ways Ruien’s least favorite person, even he didn’t deserve that.

Against his better judgment, that afternoon, Ruien approached Jin Guangyao’s chamber. He was about to knock when he heard sweet flute music drifting out from the behind door. It was so beautiful he didn’t want to interrupt. 

But moments later, the melody concluded and the beautiful sound faded. Then an equally beautiful voice, “…Master Kang, isn’t it?”

Kang Ruien gasped at hearing Lan Xichen somehow recognize his presence even though he thought he had been completely silent in his approach. “Yes…” he murmured.

“A-Yao,” Xichen said softly. “Shall I send him away?”

A slight pause, then a soft chuckle. “Don’t be silly, Er-ge.” In a louder voice, Jin Guangyao said, “Please come in if you have business with me, Master Kang.”

Ruien hesitated. In this small interaction, combined with what he had overheard between Zewu-jun and Nie Mingjue earlier in the day, he felt very awkward to interrupt private time between these two. But he realized it would be equally rude to speak to superiors, especially two such soft-spoken ones, through the door. 

“Excuse me,” he murmured as he opened the door just enough to step inside and bow. “I did not realize you had company. I will return later.”

“Nonsense. Unless it’s something you’d rather Er-ge not hear,” Guangyao added with his typical soft smile and the subtle implication that he knew from the start why Ruien had come.

These words also made it difficult for Ruien to leave. He tried to think of a way to express what he needed to without revealing any potentially damaging details about his clan leader. “I heard that Lianfang-zun was injured, and that Clan Leader Nie was responsible. I came to offer my apologies and inquire after your health in his place.”

“How kind,” Jin Guangyao said with a kind smile in return, though Ruien could tell there was no warmth in his eyes. On the contrary, he thought he saw a flicker of anger at the words ‘in his place.’

“Your…hands are injured?” Ruien asked with difficulty.

“Yes.” Guangyao lifted his right hand to reveal a bandage around his middle finger and thumb. Ruien felt a surge of guilt, as he could tell from the way the bandage was wrapped that his thumb was broken. “But as you can see, I am in the best of care,” he said, indicating Lan Xichen at his side with a genuinely appreciative expression.

Ruien’s chest felt tight. The more he could not speak openly, the heavier the air between them felt. Though the situation was not ideal, and it made him feel uncomfortable to apologize to this person at all, he realized there was no excuse for coming this far and not saying the words. 

Ruien clasped his hands and bowed deeply before both the great gentlemen. “Lianfang-zun…the Qinghe Nie Clan is deeply sorry. We wish for a speedy recovery.”

There was just a half a second longer pause than he would have expected, but Ruien kept his head down until there was some reaction from Jin Guangyao. The gentleman took a breath in and slowly let it out. “Thank you, Master Kang. Your concern is much appreciated.”

In these softly spoken words, in that warm and gentle voice, Ruien felt a shiver of fear. He could not explain it. Perhaps he was offended because it was Ruien saying it rather than Nie Mingjue himself. Or perhaps it was only his decorum which forced Jin Guangyao to accept the apology, when in reality he was hiding his understandable anger and pain over the incident. But there was definitely no heart in these gentle words. Whatever the case, there was nothing Ruien could say to change any of that now.

He bowed again more deeply, then mumbled about taking his leave. 

“A moment,” Jin Guangyao stopped him. 

Ruien reluctantly paused where he was. Thinking it would be too rude after all to keep his back to them, he turned partly back to at least let Guangyao see his face, though he didn’t meet his eyes.

“…Master Kang. It just occurs to me. Why would you apologize to me?”

Ruien’s heartrate climbed. Why would Jin Guangyao ask that? He was surely aware of every part of the situation already, even those he was not supposed to know. When Ruien glanced up at the two gentlemen with uncertainty, Zewu-jun was also looking toward Jin Guangyao with curious concern.

Ruien tried to stick to his original explanation. “Because…my clan leader-“

“Da-ge didn’t send you here,” Guangyao murmured with a rather bitter smile. It wasn’t a question. 

“…no,” Ruien admitted. “But I thought-“

“And you know him even better than I do. So you know, if anything, he would be angry if you did. So it’s not on behalf of your clan or your leader that you’re apologizing.”

“…you still deserve one, even if he won’t give it,” Ruien muttered.

Jin Guangyao actually laughed, but it was a cold sound that made both of the other two men in the room shudder slightly. “My mistake. I really didn’t take you for one so meddlesome, Kang Ruien. You see, your sad puppy dog expression when you came in here had me convinced that, for some reason, it was actually you who owed me an apology.”

“A-Yao,” Xichen said in a warning tone, seeming taken aback.

At the sound of his voice, Jin Guangyao blinked and slowly lowered his gaze. He too seemed surprised with himself. After briefly raising a hand to cover the lower half of his face in thought, he murmured softly, “Forgive me. It seems I’m a little tired. Er-ge…I would like to rest. Alone, for a while.”

Ruien might have imagined it, but he thought he saw pain flicker across Lan Xichen’s angelic face. But soon the gentleman nodded. “Of course,” he said softly. He gracefully got to his feet. He faced Ruien with a kind expression and gestured for him to leave in front of him.

Ruien hurriedly bowed once more and did so. When they were outside and the door closed behind them, a heavy silence fell between Kang Ruien and Lan Xichen. Neither seemed to know how to broach what had just happened, or what had transpired before that which led up to it. Ruien had just decided he should simply bow and take his leave when Xichen spoke instead.

“Da-ge seems…better around you,” he murmured. With a sad and worried smile he added, “If there is anything you can do for him, I would be very grateful.”

“Of course…anything,” Ruien said vaguely, not sure at first what he meant.

Zewu-jun smiled with a soft outward breath of relief, causing Ruien’s heart to race slightly. Though the only one in his heart was Nie Mingjue, Lan Xichen’s beauty and grace were almost exceeding what Ruien thought humans were capable of. The angelic creature nodded politely to take his leave, at which Ruien bowed deeply. 

As he rose to observe Lan Xichen’s slowly departing back, since he seemed reluctant to stray too far from Jin Guangyao’s vicinity, Ruien felt another flutter of worry as he wondered whether an association with Jin Guangyao might prove disastrous for this elegant being. Or indeed how any other outcome might be possible.

…

News reached Carp Tower that Jiang Wanyin had gone to the Burial Mounds, attempted to bring Wei Wuxian back to the path of orthodoxy and in the end had fought with him, leaving both badly injured. In the end, Jiang Wanyin cut his family ties with him. But at any rate it appeared Wei Wuxian had achieved what he wanted and would not leave Yiling, so it was decided not to push hostilities any further. That night, the Nie clan members departed Carp Tower and returned to the Unclean Realm.

To Ruien’s relief, having Jin Guangyao out of sight actually seemed to improve Nie Mingjue’s condition for a time. He was able to perform all his duties and rarely lost control of his anger. At least, not so much that anyone found it out of the ordinary. But as time went on, Ruien saw more and more, private moments when he seemed to be struggling with himself. Many nights he could not sleep without first taking a cold bath, or woke up in the middle of the night asking for one. But he still refused to ask Ruien for help.

Finally, one humid and rainy summer night, Nie Huaisang had apparently said something complimentary about Jin Guangyao which set Mingjue into a rage. He had already thrown over and destroyed several items of furniture by the time some servants found Ruien and begged him to come quickly. He went running toward the great hall.

“Clan Leader!” he cried as Mingjue was about to throw an entire bookcase full of books toward where Nie Huaisang was cowering. 

Ruien grasped his sheathed sword in one hand and threw his arms out wide as he stood in front of where Nie Huaisang was. He prepared for the debilitating pain and injuries which were likely to follow. 

Calmly, he said, “You must not harm your brother.”

Mingjue roared and threw the bookcase instead through a nearby wall. Panting and casting his enraged expression at the ground in front of him he bellowed, “Anyone who praises that snake should be punished for it! No matter who it is!”

Ruien frowned hard at him. “That is not so.”

“Of course it is!”

“Why?”

“Because I said so!”

Ruien sighed. “He is not a criminal. He is not your enemy. On the contrary, those who speak ill of the Chief Cultivator’s son place themselves in significant danger. Your status as his sworn brother gives you a right others do not have to criticize him.”

Nie Mingjue panted and continued glowering with a deathly glare at the floor for a moment as he seemed to be trying to understand what Ruien was saying. Unable to refute his words, he merely picked up an already flipped over table and cast it into the floor, snapping it in two with a terrible sound and an accompanying roar. Soon after, he sank to his knees on the floor, looking exhausted. 

At the soft whimpering of Nie Huaisang behind him, Ruien took a deep breath and managed to control his own fear. He approached Nie Mingjue slowly. Fortunately he had not yet taken hold of Baxia, but he seemed likely to any moment. Keenly aware of the fact that Nie Mingjue was strong enough to snap his body in two just as he had done the table, Ruien spoke softly to him and placed a hand against his forehead to feel his temperature. 

Though he was burning up, Ruien was greatly relieved when Mingjue’s eyes drew closed as if his touch brought some comfort. He didn’t hesitate anymore and helped Mingjue to his feet. 

“Let’s go to your chamber,” he said.

Mingjue growled and bared his teeth, but with his eyes closed tight, he seemed to be fighting back the urge to respond with anger. After a tense moment, quietly he asked, “Which way is it?”

Ruien felt a stab of pity for him that his rage was so extreme he could barely tell where he was. “I’ll guide you. Can you feel my hand on your arm?”

Mingjue nodded. “Just go.”

Upon reaching Mingjue’s chamber, Ruien called for a cold bath to be brought in. He undressed Mingjue and helped him to sink into the water. Without being asked, he poured water over Mingjue’s head and hair several times, soothingly running his fingers through his hair. Mingjue’s temperature gradually cooled, and his expression relaxed a great deal. Eventually his eyes flickered open and he seemed to be looking on Ruien with mild surprise.

In shame, he glanced down again after meeting his eyes. “…did I hurt anyone?”

Ruien shook his head. “Your brother is likely to be scared of you for some time, and replacing the floor boards and damaged walls will not be cheap, but I don’t think anyone was hurt.”

Mingjue closed his eyes with a sigh. As he started to shiver, he leaned his head against Ruien’s thigh as he sat on the edge of the tub. This subtle gesture made his heart ache, and his feelings for Mingjue grow even deeper roots in his heart. He stroked his hair even more gently. 

Mingjue at first relaxed into his touch, but then his breathing began to rise. He rose from the tub, towering over Ruien like a terrifying specter. “I’m cold,” he announced.

Ruien nodded, standing up and reaching for a robe to drape around him. But as he drew near again, Mingjue grasped his wrist, causing him to drop the garment to the floor. 

His dark eyes flicking to somewhere around Ruien’s chest, Mingjue said in a soft growl, “You can do it faster yourself, can’t you?”

Ruien’s blood began to feel warm in his veins as he realized what his clan leader was implying. But could he mean that? He was sure their last conversation on the topic had constituted a firm rejection. It might still be, he reminded himself, as this was purely a medical treatment for him. Still, he thought Mingjue would rather die than admit he needed help. Or was it just a passing sexual desire?

None of that mattered, he realized. He couldn’t leave Mingjue shivering like this. He helped him out of the tub and brought him to Mingjue’s own bedroom. There, as Mingjue watched and still shivered slightly, water dripping from his enormous, muscular and scarred body, Ruien began to remove his own clothes. 

Mingjue’s breathing continued to rise as he watched each part of Ruien’s body revealed. When they both stood naked, the great man suddenly grasped Ruien tightly to him. He was cold from head to foot, but Ruien’s heart felt ready to explode. The first time had been so late and seemed to go by so quickly, but as soon as he felt his skin and smelled his scent, he remembered how blissful he had felt in Mingjue’s arms. He held him in return, carefully holding back the intensity of his grasp in order to avoid burdening Mingjue with his feelings.

But Mingjue’s grasp only tightened. He changed his grasp and squeezed Ruien’s arms several times before leaning down and bestowing coaxing kisses against his cheek. Each one seemed more demanding. Finally he breathed in deeply from Ruien’s skin and suddenly held him even tighter. Ruien gasped as he felt a warm, hard length slide between his legs. 

Slowly, Mingjue rolled his hips against Ruien’s. His grasp was almost driving out Ruien’s breath, while his cock ran along almost every sensitive area between Ruien’s legs. Ruien gasped with each stroke, helplessly clinging to Mingjue’s enormous, rippling back. He couldn’t help impatiently moving his own hips against Mingjue’s abdominal muscles. 

“…bed…” Mingjue grunted at one point.

Ruien reluctantly pulled away from him in order to move toward the bed, but Mingjue grasped him by his waist and practically tossed him onto it, belly-down on top of the covers. As he looked back worriedly, he was surrounded in the huge shadow of Nie Mingjue leaning down over him. He shivered, both in fear and anticipation. 

Though he expected even more roughness than last time, it didn’t come. As Mingjue drew closer, he again pressed soft, affectionate kisses to Ruien’s cheek. Ruien panted and instinctively pressed his hips upward against Mingjue’s body, yearning for more contact. Mingjue obliged him first by rubbing his cock between the valley of Ruien’s buttocks, and then sliding his length between Ruien’s legs once more.

This angle of stimulation made him gasp. Mingjue’s throbbing cock was rubbing against his own, pressed into the bed, while each slow thrust of his hips rubbed all down his taint and even felt good against his ass. Mingjue pulled back and thrust again. Before a moan escaped him, Ruien quickly clapped a hand over his own mouth and kept it there as his clan leader rolled his hips against him as if they were really making love. 

Though he belatedly realized that Mingjue might not be aware that there was a way for men to have penetrative sex, he couldn’t think of anything right now but the heat sliding between his legs. That is, until a long and dexterous tongue entered his ear. 

“Ngh!” he cried against his own hand, before he could stop himself. He was so desperate to stay quiet, and so rattled by everything Mingjue was doing to him, he almost covered up his own nose too, before he realized he could easily suffocate that way.

More and more forcefully, Mingjue thrust his hips against Ruien’s, pounding him into the bed. Ruien nearly lost his breath several times from the sheer power of Mingjue’s huge, muscle-bound body moving against him. The bed too was filled with his scent. He started to feel dizzy from sheer pleasure. Was this really helping Mingjue? He felt as if his greatest wish were being fulfilled, and couldn’t think what he had done to deserve it.

Mingjue’s deep voice reverberated repeatedly against his back and neck. He wrapped his legs around Ruien’s and forced them together. “Squeeze them tighter,” he instructed in a harsh whisper against his ear.

Ruien shivered and obeyed, angling his hips to tighten his body’s hold on Mingjue’s cock. His clan leader let out a shuddering gasp and thrust harder against him, while at the same time biting lightly against his neck and ear. 

At that moment, Mingjue’s massive arms scooped his upper body up and held him so tight he could barely breathe. But even this intense hold only brought Ruien’s pleasure to its peak, just as Mingjue gasped and let out several harsh moans. Mingjue’s cock felt hotter than ever as it twitched against his own. Finally heat spurted between Ruien’s stomach and the bed. 

Ruien shuddered. Even as he could barely move in Mingjue’s grasp, he clapped both hands tightly over his nose and mouth to remind himself to be quiet as a powerful orgasm rolled over him. 

It took a long time for Mingjue’s grasp to loosen even a little, and by then Ruien was struggling to get enough oxygen. He collapsed in a heap on the bed as soon as Mingjue released him. But it was hard to relax, as much of Nie Mingjue’s substantial weight then was pressed on top of him. As much as it was stifling, it felt somehow deeply reassuring. 

As soon as they both had their breath back, Mingjue asked him a question that surprised him a little. “Do you ever miss your home…in Sogdia?”

He would never have expected that question from Nie Mingjue, so it took him a moment to consider. It would not be entirely truthful to say he did not miss the endless fields of flowers, stretching out beneath the pounding hooves of a loyal horse, the stretches of pure, sacred desert and the noble mountains. But it had been many years since he had missed the sight of either of his parents.

“This is my home. Qinghe.”

“…everyone still treats you like an outsider.”

Ruien could not see Mingjue’s face from the way he was lying mostly on top of him, but he stared down at the blankets in front of him in wonder. He knew Mingjue had a good heart, but in all the years he had known him, he had never expressed such deep sympathy for another human being. 

“Doesn’t it wear on you?” Mingjue continued, sounding both bitter and sad.

And then it dawned on him who he was really asking about. After all, being treated as a foreign spy and being treated as the son of a prostitute, despite appearances, in fact could be quite similar. The blissful feelings he had experienced in Mingjue’s arms just moments ago suddenly seemed empty and even somewhat cruel. It was one thing if he were merely a trial, or an outlet for a physical problem. But being treated as a substitute for someone Mingjue couldn’t have was not a feeling Ruien had prepared himself adequately for.

“It…can,” he admitted softly, and in his mind he was answering for Meng Yao too. “It forces one to become both strong and flexible. But it can be lonely, yes.”

Mingjue’s fingers tightened a little on his arm. Wordlessly, he pulled Ruien onto his side so he could lay in his preferred posture, surrounding Ruien in his arms as they both lay on their sides. That night at least Mingjue managed to sleep through, though Ruien struggled.


	6. The Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the wedding of Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan, someone accidentally gives Lan Xichen wine. In an attempt to protect his reputation, Jin Guangyao and Nie Mingjue try to bring him back to his quarters, but on the way, things go somewhat awry for Jin Guangyao.

After the recent strife that been occupying their lives, there came a welcome time of joy, as Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan were finally married. Of course all the major clans were in attendance, meaning Nie Mingjue would have to be in a room with Jin Guangyao. But for the sake of the happy couple, they both managed to keep their peace through most of the festivities.

Since his injury, which prevented him from either writing or sword practice, as well as keeping Lan Xichen close by, Jin Guangyao would find it difficult to describe how he had been feeling. Lately his emotions felt jumbled. Of course the same fear as always was present, but he was kept a step away from it as he was unable to work for his father. At times he felt like crying. Other times, banal things that normally only irritated him made him almost giddy with laughter. But most of all, each time Lan Xichen came near him, he felt an array of emotions that became harder and harder to suppress.

His thumb was almost healed, so he had begun taking up small duties again. It was as he was walking around the banquet hall during the feast on the second night of his half-brother’s marriage festivities when he realized someone had – whether accidentally or on purpose – switched Lan Xichen’s tea with wine.

He hoped he was the only one who noticed the way Lan Xichen was idly tilting his head and gazing up at the design of the ceiling, but Guangyao could tell in an instant that the doe-eyed smile on his face was one of drunkenness. He felt a very real surge of panic at the thought that Xichen’s drunken nature might be exposed and ruin his reputation. 

He approached him and cautiously said in an undertone, “Er-ge…you seem tired. Would you like to rest in your room for a while? Come, I’ll take you.”

“A-Yao!” Xichen said with booming volume that made those nearby him flinch. He grinned at him, looking directly at him as he took another drink from his cup. 

Guangyao tried to smile and quickly said, “Let me take that.” 

Xichen obediently handed him the cup, though he seemed disappointed. Guangyao hurriedly put the cup down on the table in front of him and looked around him for help. One thing he knew about Xichen when he had the slightest amount of alcohol in him was that he was unpredictable. If he tried to do something outlandish, Guangyao would not be able to stop him. Unfortunately, as Lan Wangji had already turned in for the night, there was only really one person who already knew of Xichen’s condition and was capable of stopping him. 

“Er-ge,” Guangyao said in a soft voice, carefully controlling the anxiety rising in his chest at what he was about to do. “This is very important. I need you to stay here and be quiet for a few moments.”

Xichen was nodding idly, but before Guangyao realized what he was doing, was taking another drink from his cup. Guangyao sighed, but he could not take it away again without making a scene. Instead he smiled and asked Xichen once more to stay put and be quiet, which prompted a divine smile but no reassuring response. Sighing again, Guangyao moved quickly but in a discreet manner toward the Nie clan’s tables.

He could tell that Nie Mingjue noticed his presence right away but did not acknowledge him. “Da-ge,” he said, trying to keep his tone neutral. 

“What?” Mingjue demanded, taking a drink of wine himself. 

“There is a bad situation forming with Er-ge. I would be grateful for your assistance.”

At that, Mingjue’s ill temper seemed to dim. He glanced up at Guangyao to gauge his expression to see whether or not he was serious. After a moment, he seemed satisfied that he was. He levied himself up and followed Guangyao to where Lan Xichen was. 

When Lan Xichen saw them approach, he grinned and said loudly, “Da-ge!”

Mingjue let out a heavy sigh, not needing Guangyao’s explanation to tell what had happened. “Xichen,” he growled. And after a moment of thought, “I’ve had too much to drink. Would you help me back to my room?”

“Of course!” Xichen said at once, though still at a slightly disturbing volume. He got to his feet and grinned at Mingjue, comfortingly patting his shoulder. “Da-ge, you should know better than to drink too much.”

“One would think,” Mingjue grumbled, guiding him outside. 

Guangyao realized he could probably leave things to Mingjue. But at seeing their two tall, handsome figures moving away from him, alone, he felt a stab of some uncomfortable emotion. He followed wordlessly. 

Once they were outside, Xichen was immediately captivated by the moon. “Worthy of poetry!” he announced in a voice than echoed through the quiet courtyard. “Or at least a song.”

With that, he flew up to the top of a nearby building and produced Liebing. Just as he put it to his lips, Mingjue grasped him by the scruff and Guangyao calmly smiled and took Liebing from him. While Xichen was still confused and somewhat put out, the other two guided him back to the ground. 

“But…it deserves music!” he protested. “Shall I sing?”

“I would love to hear your song, but in your room,” Guangyao said pacifyingly. And in a quiet and conspiratorial voice that one might use to coax a child, he added, “Some people are already asleep.”

Xichen cutely put a finger to his own lips and copied his tone. “People are sleeping!” he reiterated for some reason.

Even as Mingjue irritably guided Xichen toward his room, Guangyao was holding back laughter at how cute he was. He didn’t remember him being so adorable the last time he had seen Xichen drink. But his good mood was broken moments later.

“Your hand looks healed,” came the unforgiving growl of Nie Mingjue. 

“Yes,” Guangyao said simply, finding no reason at all to be falsely courteous with this man in private.

After a tense silence, Mingjue continued, “Xichen’s been helping you?”

“…yes.”

“Hmph. So then you must not have had many chances to sleep around,” Mingjue grunted.

Guangyao’s heart flew into his throat. He panicked as he turned to see Xichen looking up at Mingjue with hurt and confusion. “Da-ge…?” he asked, finally at least at a normal volume.

“Don’t you dare,” Guangyao whispered breathlessly, hoping Mingjue could see his lips but Xichen could not hear.

“Relax. He never remembers anything when he drinks,” Mingjue said carelessly. “So why don’t you take the opportunity and come clean with him? How you’ve been playing him just like everyone else? Won’t it take a load off your conscience?”

“Hell with you!” Guangyao snapped before he could stop himself. 

Mingjue and Xichen both stared down at him in astonishment. Guangyao was taking in desperate breaths, unable to calm his breathing. He was mortified by what he had just done, shouting at his elder brother during what should be a happy occasion, but at the same time he was so filled with outrage he could hardly stand to look at him. 

With his eyes starting to sting, he whispered, “I don’t care if you’re joking, or just trying to discredit me with Er-ge. Don’t you dare imply that I deceived him. I…” He found the words he wanted to say blocked by shame, and he shook his head. “You have no right,” he murmured instead.

“Hm,” Mingjue murmured impassively. “So you don’t consider a lie by omission to be deceit then?”

“…I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Guangyao muttered with a thrill of fear that he would tell Xichen about the Jin sergeant he had killed during the Sunshot Campaign.

“Pathetic,” Mingjue grunted, tugging Xichen along and walking toward his room, although no doubt he knew Guangyao would follow. He continued over his shoulder, “Xichen may be forgiving about a lot of things, but about love, the Lan are notoriously strict.”

“…love…?” Xichen murmured softly with a look of worry toward Mingjue, though he didn’t seem to be following the conversation.

Guangyao’s jaw tightened as he followed them. He didn’t even realize his hand was resting on Hensheng’s hilt. “Da-ge. I’m warning you.”

Mingjue scoffed. “Terrifying as that is,” he said with deep sarcasm, “You’re the one who said you never deceived him. So why don’t you tell him how you’ve been sleeping around? How you’ve been warming Xue Yang’s bed while playing Xichen for a fool?”

With that, Jin Guangyao, and moments later Lan Xichen, both stopped walking. Guangyao felt cold, his joints locked in place. 

“Xue…Yang’s…?” Xichen murmured, seeming shell-shocked.

Guangyao didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t the heart to correct Mingjue’s slight misrepresentation. The truth was, he had slept with Xue Yang. Once. At the time, he felt it important to secure his loyalty when the location of yin iron had been paramount to the defeat of Wen Ruohan. Since then, the young brigand had propositioned him again multiple times, but fear of discovery in his new and highly scrutinized position kept Guangyao from accepting. Currently, he felt so disgusted with his own past that it didn’t seem to merit the slight correction.

The one thing that kept his self-respect in spite of the lascivious things he had done, seemingly the very things for which his mother had been so reviled, was the thought that Xichen didn’t know. And whether or not he forgot all this tomorrow, even if he wasn’t himself now, time could not be reversed. Xichen had heard the words. 

Xichen looked over toward Guangyao, his expression still troubled and unsure. To Guangyao’s shock, moisture gathered at the corners of his serene eyes. “But…you said it was impossible. Because…you need to have children. Why…with Xue Yang…?”

Guangyao was too ashamed to speak. He numbly shook his head once, not even certain what he was trying to deny. 

A tear slid down Xichen’s cheek, shining silver in the moonlight. “Is it me…? Am I no good?” he murmured, barely audibly.

Guangyao felt as if he had been struck by an avalanche. Now there was no longer anywhere to run from the knowledge that Xichen had feelings for him. Foolish, clearly self-destructive feelings, which would only lead him to heartbreak and perhaps even an untimely death. And then there was the preposterous idea that anyone could find him unacceptable as an object of affection, particularly in comparison to that contemptable Xue Yang. 

But what could he say? Seeing Xichen in pain alone was killing him. He couldn’t let him believe for one more moment that he wasn’t good enough. And yet to tell him so would only encourage these feelings of his. He couldn’t change Xichen’s feelings. Could he? Was there a way to make him fall out of love, and save him from himself?

Guangyao straightened his back. He took a deep breath, as pain he had never known before echoed through his chest. So, he thought to himself. This is what heartbreak feels like.

He forced a small, sympathetic smile. “Er-ge…I do not deserve your kindness or attention. Of course it is flattering. But it is as I told you, I cannot be seen publicly to have an amoral relationship which cannot produce children. What I did with Xue Yang was not about love, but simply a physical arrangement. I could not have such a thing with you.”

To his shock, Xichen murmured softly, “Why?”

It took every ounce of self-control for him not to react to this soft and plaintive question. He smiled again, acting slightly confused. “Well…because Er-ge, it is as Da-ge says. The Lan may only have one love in all their life. And since I must marry a woman, it could not be me.”

Xichen’s gaze slowly traveled down as another tear dripped down his cheek. 

Mingjue tried to pull him along. “There you have it. Forget him. Let’s keep drinking in your room and we’ll toast your broken heart. It’ll be all right, Xichen.”

But just as Guangyao was reaching his limit of holding back his own tears, relieved that they had started to turn away, Xichen turned back and asked him in a sweet voice, “If I promise…not to speak of love…if I don’t interfere in your marriage…am I still no good?”

Jin Guangyao had never felt as low as he did at this moment. He wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere and waste away, unnoticed. He felt guilty toward the air for breathing it. He was so overwhelmed by the depth and selflessness of Xichen’s care for him that he couldn’t move.

Mingjue worriedly grasped Xichen’s shoulder. “Xichen. You can’t say things like that. You’re a clan leader, and a member of the Gusu Lan Sect. You don’t let a son of a prostitute string you along like a lovesick puppy.”

“Take it back.”

This time, it was Xichen who had earned the shocked stares of the other two. He didn’t seem confrontational, but rather he frowned as one child would when scolding another. 

“Those words are forbidden to A-Yao,” he said in a gentle voice to Mingjue, as if it were somehow his first time hearing that. “His mother took very good care of A-Yao, that is what matters. Don’t hurt A-Yao anymore.”

Guangyao was so overwhelmed that he wavered on his feet. In all his life, he could never have imagined that he would hear those words from another human being. He felt as if he had been pulled inside-out and every dark thing he had ever done were on display, alongside the pure longing he had felt as a child simply to be seen as human. Soon the feeling became more than just emotional.

He quickly turned away and leaned over an unfortunate patch of flowers and emptied the contents of his stomach. He was even more unprepared when moments later he felt gentle hands stroking his back to comfort him. 

“Did you drink too much too, A-Yao? I’ll take you back to your room. I’ll help you feel better,” Xichen said, still speaking oddly simply and childishly, and seeming to have already forgotten what he had just said. 

Guangyao wiped his mouth on a handkerchief and attempted to protest, “But…”

With that, Nie Mingjue growled irritably and turned away, apparently washing his hands of the matter. Guangyao blinked at his departure. Wasn’t he worried about Lan Xichen? It couldn’t be…did this mean he had stopped disapproving of Guangyao’s relationship with him? No. Impossible. But at least for now he seemed to have given up the battle.

Guangyao lacked the strength to object as Lan Xichen very sweetly brought him back to his own chamber. Once they were inside and Guangyao was seated at his table, Xichen reached into his sleeve, apparently in search of Liebing. 

“Hm?” he wondered, cutely peering into his own sleeve, as it was clearly not where he usually kept it. 

Guangyao could not help a small laugh. “Liebing is here, Er-ge,” he said, handing it to him. “But you must not play now. It is very late.”

Xichen seemed disappointed. “But!” he said, suddenly regaining his volume from before. At Guangyao pressing a hushing finger to his lips, Xichen went on in an excited whisper, “A-Yao doesn’t feel well. Shouldn’t I play?”

Guangyao lowered his head slowly. “I would be happier if we could talk a little, Er-ge.”

“How nice!” Xichen said loudly again. “Yes, what shall we talk about?”

“…there is someone that you love, isn’t there?”

The happiness faded from Xichen’s face. He slowly turned his gaze down as torment overtook his expression. Frowning resolutely down at the ground, he shook his head.

“Are you sure?”

The sadness increased in Xichen’s face. “Not supposed to say,” he murmured.

Guangyao felt his eyes start to tear up again at the thought that his attempts to dissuade Xichen from having feelings for him had only succeeded in forcing him into silence about them. “If there were…someone that you loved,” he tried with difficulty, though he heard his own voice crack with emotion. “But that person wasn’t who you thought they were, how would you feel? What would make it better?”

Xichen frowned in thought, seeming to have difficulty with the concept in the abstract in his drunken state. “He’s sick. I know.”

This time it was Guangyao’s turn to be confused. “The one you love…is sick?”

Xichen nodded. “From when he was young. I’ll make it better.”

Guangyao mistakenly thought Xichen was referring to a psychological illness and felt even worse. It also raised the possibility that he had somehow misunderstood all along and there was some true love out there that Xichen had besides himself. 

“Some people just can’t be cured, Er-ge,” he said, on the chance that it was himself. “I’m sure the one you love only wants you to be happy. He would want you to find happiness with someone else. Someone healthy, and kind like you, who could give you…” In the middle of his sentence, Guangyao’s voice was halted by his own tears. He looked away for a moment to control his breathing and then tried again. “…everything that you need. He wouldn’t want you wasting your life waiting for someone who would probably only be a burden to you.”

Xichen seemed deeply hurt by this topic and didn’t respond for some time. When at last he did, he only murmured softly, “…I’m the only one who can save him.”

Guangyao sobbed in despair and love for him that had finally reached a degree that it was painful. Though his fingers trembled and they were so numb he could barely feel them, he very softly touched Lan Xichen’s cheek and encouraged him to meet his gaze. He was unable to hide the fact that he was crying anymore, but hoped Mingjue was right about Xichen’s drunken memory being faulty. 

“Can’t you let him save you instead?” he whispered in desperation. 

Xichen looked down at him with concern, raising a hand to touch his cheek in return. “A-Yao,” he said gently, as if seeing him for the first time tonight. Then his expression changed slightly and Guangyao thought he saw a hint of color in his cheeks. “A-Yao,” he began again. “Have you ever kissed anyone?”

Not sure whether he still remembered the earlier conversation about Xue Yang, Guangyao wondered how he should answer. But then he thought back and realized…in fact though he had had multiple sexual encounters and most had involved some amount of kissing, he had never actually initiated a kiss with another person. If Xichen wouldn’t remember anyway, perhaps one more white lie couldn’t hurt?

But guilt stopped him just as the words reached his lips. He took a breath and tried again. “Yes," he admitted, almost inaudibly. "How about you, Er-ge?”

Xichen looked a little sad once more. “No…and now maybe I’m too old to learn…”

Guangyao snorted with laughter before he could stop himself, which Xichen seemed rather offended by. He quickly shook his head. “It’s really not difficult. Mostly people just do it because it feels good. It’s a way to feel closer. Technique isn’t as important as who you’re doing it with.”

Xichen’s sweet, angelic eyes turned to look hopefully toward Jin Guangyao. Dissonant emotions fought inside him as he felt paralyzed by that beautiful expression. He was not prepared when Xichen asked him a soft question, and in a voice that sounded much more sober than before. 

“Does it feel good with Xue Yang?”

Guangyao gasped and quickly took his hand away from Xichen’s face, ashamed that he had touched him at all. “I…that’s…my heart isn’t as pure as yours, Er-ge. I still feel good even if I don’t love someone.”

“…then…would you feel good with me too?”

Guangyao breathed heavily, not knowing where to turn. Every attempt to save Lan Xichen seemed only to hurt him. As he was still agonizing over what to do, Xichen leaned his head closer, observing his expression. Guangyao’s breath caught at his proximity. He could almost count his long eyelashes. How could he be even more beautiful up close? 

Captivated by Xichen’s beauty, he felt completely at his mercy. Unable to stop himself, his eyes carefully took in each feature of Xichen’s face, finally focusing on his lips. Sensing what Guangyao was looking at, Xichen slowly drew in closer. 

For some time, he waited, their faces so close that their breath brushed one another’s lips. Xichen blinked slowly and several times glanced up toward Guangyao’s eyes for reassurance. Guangyao felt desire rising in him like a wave, every atom in his body simultaneously crying out for Xichen. In the end, he wasn’t sure who closed the final distance between them.

At first their touch was incredibly soft and hesitant, though it lingered for many long moments. Having only ever experienced savage kisses in his life, this experience was utterly new to Jin Guangyao. It felt as if there were fireworks going off inside him with each breath, even though Xichen’s lips were only lightly touching his own, barely even moving. His breath was trembling against Xichen’s face. 

But as soon as their lips parted for an instant, Xichen grasped Guangyao’s shoulders and deepened the kiss. Guangyao yelped inside his mouth. He couldn’t help it; the sensations had already been intense from the lightest of touches. To feel Xichen’s powerful grasp on his shoulders and the sensuous way he moved his mouth was almost more than Guangyao could take. 

To his own disbelief and embarrassment, pleasure built inside him in greater and greater waves, purely from Xichen’s innocent kisses. But even though they kissed until Guangyao’s lips felt raw, Xichen didn’t seem to wish to do anything else. He even pushed Guangyao back onto the floor, but once there he only kissed him yet more, now and then stroking his hair with affection. 

Of course this felt indescribably good, but Guangyao only grew more and more frustrated the longer they kissed, his lower body aching to be touched. Yet he was already so guilty at what they were doing, he couldn’t bear to ask. 

At last, when he seemed satisfied, Xichen turned over onto his back on the ground and pulled Guangyao on top of his body, holding him there securely. He said nothing, but his grasp was incredibly tender. Soon, Guangyao heard breathing characteristic of sleep, and he let out a sigh of relief. 

He tried to carefully extricate himself from Xichen, but found that even during sleep, his arm strength was formidable. He had a sudden flash of fear that if he were unable to escape, and Xichen found him asleep in his arms the next morning, it wouldn’t really matter if he didn’t remember. But just as he was beginning to panic, he managed to slip from his grasp. 

Once free, he sat on the floor and held his face in his hands. He had kissed Lan Xichen. He had stolen the first kiss of the most divine being that had ever lived. As he tried to think of how to get Lan Xichen back to his own room, the only thought that occurred to him was that ten thousand years as a hungry ghost wouldn’t be enough penance for this.


	7. Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Kang Ruien attempts to deepen his relationship with Nie Mingjue, Jin Guangyao discovers Su She's plot against Jin Zixun, and must make a decision.

Kang Ruien was once again woken up that night by a half-drunk Nie Mingjue who dragged him back to his quarters with no explanation. But once there, with Ruien sitting patiently on his bed, the clan leader only paced the edges of the room. Ruien couldn’t tell exactly what was upsetting him, but he didn’t need much help to guess who.

“Has something happened with Lianfang-zun?” he asked.

“What do you think?!” Mingjue snapped, then promptly returned to his pacing. 

Ruien normally felt he was quite good at concealing his emotions, but on the issue of Jin Guangyao, he was finding he had less and less patience. “I’ve told you what I think, Clan Leader.”

“Heh,” Mingjue barked out a bitter laugh. “I don’t remember any such advice from you. This should be good.”

Ruien pulled his braid over his shoulder idly, and symbolically sealed off his heart to the man he loved as jealousy flared like an ember stoked by wind inside him. At the same time, he also knew that overt signs of pettiness would only earn him Nie Mingjue’s disgust. He couldn’t say what he actually thought.

“Forgive me. I spoke above my station.”

“Don’t hide behind formality just because you’re afraid of me,” Mingjue growled in reply, glaring at him like a wolf from across the room. “If you have a problem, then say it.”

Ruien struggled to control his breathing, feeling stabbed by pain at his clan leader’s insensitivity. Even if he didn’t already know how Ruien felt, he clearly didn’t care. He just didn’t like being contradicted. 

“I am not afraid of you. I am your subordinate, and I owe you respect,” Ruien murmured, hoping the frustration did not appear in his voice.

“No. Molly-coddling my feelings isn’t respect. It’s subservience,” Mingjue shot back.

“Subservience is appropriate for a deputy toward his clan leader.”

“Ha!” Mingjue laughed without the slightest hint of mirth. “That’s what you think, is it?”

“…it is true.”

Mingjue nodded, picking up a jar of wine from atop a nearby shelf and taking a drink. “Good to know. So I will have to find myself a new deputy then, because you’re clearly not up to the task. What’s your plan? To keep getting yourself demoted until you’re all the way down to ‘whore’?”

Ruien got to his feet. Part of him knew that this wasn’t about him. Nie Mingjue was upset about something to do with Jin Guangyao. He shouldn’t take this personally. But no matter how many times he told himself that, his anger would not cool. 

“Did you call me here for a reason, Clan Leader?” he asked coldly.

Mingjue took another drink, and Ruien wasn’t sure but it seemed that some difficult emotion passed over his face. “No,” he said darkly. “Get out.”

With that, the clan leader walked in to his own bedchamber, then lay down with his wine jug in one hand and the other arm draped over his eyes. Seeing him like this, the anger that had prompted Ruien to want to leave began to dim. He sighed and, even though he had just been told to get out, came to lean against the partition between the two rooms, watching Nie Mingjue’s diminished form.

It was obvious that, despite his words, Mingjue needed comfort. Most likely, Ruien thought, he needed someone to encourage him to be open with his feelings for Jin Guangyao. But even though he had tried to do so before, Ruien couldn’t bring himself to do so now.

“You looked very handsome today.”

Mingjue’s large body stiffened somewhat. He removed his arm from over his eyes and stared at the ceiling for a moment. He turned his head to one side rather sullenly.

“I didn’t call you here to stroke my ego,” he muttered. “And my yang energy is fine, so seduction isn’t necessary.”

Ruien raised an eyebrow. “Are the two things related? You looked handsome, so I said so. I had no deeper meaning.”

Mingjue frowned for a time in uncertainty. “Aren’t you the one who’s always keen to point out my faults?”

“Looks is not one of them,” Ruien answered somewhat playfully.

Mingjue scoffed; almost, but not quite a laugh. “So. Bit late in asking this, I suppose. Are you a cut-sleeve, Kang Ruien?”

Ruien’s chest felt as if a cold breeze had blown through it. Along with his fear of his clan leader discovering his feelings, he was also reminded of every failed attempt at a relationship so far in his life. Fortunately Nie Mingjue was still facing the ceiling and not looking at him, because he would have seen the decades of resentment which Ruien usually did his best to hide.

“I’m a foreigner,” he said simply. “Nothing else seems to matter.”

At this, Mingjue finally reacted a bit more like his normal self. He pushed himself up to a seated position and looked hard at Ruien. “You said your home was Qinghe, didn’t you? So answer me like any other myrmidon of the Unclean Realm.”

Ruien physically shivered with the force of the love he felt for this man. His purity of spirit was sometimes blinding, and sometimes resulted in absolute pig-headedness, but sometimes it was a quality deserving of the deepest reverence. 

“As far as Clan Leader Nie is concerned,” Ruien said softly, fear nearly closing up his throat. “I suppose I am.”

Nie Mingjue eventually took this in with a nod. “Fair enough,” he said. 

He shifted his feet off the bed in order to reach over to the bedside table and grab a cup, which he then filled with wine. He held out the full cup his side. Despite a moment of apprehension, Ruien took a seat beside him and accepted the cup. They both drank together, and then Mingjue filled his cup again.

“You don’t have to stay,” Mingjue said softly, at length. 

“I’m not tired.”

“…I mean with me. With my clan.” Mingjue addressed the wine jug, dwarfed by his large hand as he muttered, “I wasn’t kidding earlier. It’s not just A-Yao. The sensitive and the intelligent are wasted under my command. Huaisang only wishes I had the power to set him free, but sadly for him, I don’t think he could make it on his own. You could.”

Ruien gazed down at the scattered moonlight reflected in his wine. “Is there another clan with another Nie Mingjue?” he asked.

Mingjue glanced down at him with a deep frown, saying nothing.

Ruien shrugged and downed his second cup of wine. “Then I don’t much see the point.”

Mingjue took this in for a few moments in silence. Eventually, he set aside his wine jug. He took the cup from Ruien’s hands and set it aside too. The next moment, Ruien felt a large, calloused hand on his face, and the handsome and terrifying shadow of his clan leader drawing over his face. Mingjue kissed him slowly but firmly. Doubly warmed by the alcohol spreading through his body, he leaned back into the bed and wrapped his arms around his awkward and divine beloved. 

…

Partly in an attempt to encourage Lan Xichen to return to the Cloud Recesses, Jin Guangyao resumed his normal duties the next day. These included, for him, being the center of a network of informants who were more or less loyal to the Jin but all of whom had a debt of some kind toward Jin Guangyao as an individual. It was through this network, dormant for the past month as he healed, that he heard of something unsavory brewing.

One of his informants had told him of unique scars briefly visible on the body of Jin Zixun, as he was filling in for Zixun’s regular servant to assist in his morning cleansing. By the description, although the informant himself was unaware of the significance, Guangyao could tell it was the Hundred Holes Curse. Since Zixun was neither clever nor enterprising enough to actually curse anyone else, he must be the victim, not the caster. 

Guangyao’s first honest feeling on hearing this was a sense of relief, as Zixun was an unpleasant person who was simultaneously a threat to Guangyao’s ambitions. Even so, if left unchecked, it might lead to something tragic which affected others. He gave non-specific instructions to his other informants to be on the lookout for physical abnormalities in other cultivators who either lived in or visited Carp Tower.

The wedding festivities now complete, the other noble families gave their final well-wishes and made their farewells to return home. Guangyao had hoped the Lan brothers would be among them, as he had been more or less successfully avoiding Lan Xichen since that night, but he didn’t see them. He did receive quite a shock of a different kind, however.

Nie Mingjue, as he left with his myrmidons, Nie Huaisang on one side and Kang Ruien on the other, said a polite congratulations to the couple, and then stopped before Jin Guangyao. Guangyao’s heartbeat rose at the way he threateningly loomed over him. He was not so much afraid of the physical harm Mingjue might do him, but in this context much more frightened of being humiliated by him. 

As it turned out, his fears were for naught. 

A large fist bumped softly against his ribs. He blinked up at the bearer in astonishment. Looking him in the eyes with a protectiveness that Guangyao had not seen for years, Mingjue told him simply, “Be good.”

And then he was gone. 

Jin Guangyao stood perplexed by this small interaction for so long he almost lost track of what he was supposed to be doing. He quickly looked up and smiled, bidding goodbye to the next noble family, all the while the wheels turning in his head and getting nowhere. What was going on in the mind of Nie Mingjue?

When he attempted to return to his chamber to rest for an hour or so before his evening duties began, he almost walked straight into Lan Xichen. 

“A-Yao,” said the angel with a dazzling smile that shot straight through Jin Guangyao’s heart. “Good that I found you. Since you are healed now, do you have time for some guqin practice together?”

Guangyao let out a soft breath of relief, though little of the tension eased from his body. Given Xichen’s utter inability to hide major emotions, clearly he did not remember the previous night. Though that was a great weight off his shoulders, it would not save him from the uncomfortable conversation that had to come next. 

“Er-ge…it is not that I am not grateful,” he began slowly. “But…the Cloud Recesses are still being rebuilt. Is this not so?”

Xichen hesitated, but he had to nod slightly, knowing Guangyao was well informed by him of the state of the Cloud Recesses.

“And your uncle still requires much help.”

“He has Wangji,” Xichen said with unusual conviction. He did not seem angry or upset, but Guangyao was still surprised at how firmly he denied his own responsibilities as a clan leader. “They two are capable of handling almost any eventuality that might trouble Gusu. But there are things here that only I can do.”

“…what do you mean, Er-ge?”

Xichen graced him with a warm and slightly secret smile. “Guqin practice, for example.”

For someone normally so open and easy to read, this entire interchange was bordering on bizarre. Guangyao’s first response was of course, ‘there are plenty of people to practice the guqin with,’ though that would have been rude to say to a clan leader and a master guqin player like Lan Xichen. And obviously the rebuilding of one’s home should take priority over helping a friend at music practice. He tried to convey all this with a troubled expression, but Xichen only continued beaming his expectant smile down on him. 

Guangyao let out a soft sigh and offered an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Er-ge. The truth is, I don’t really have the heart for guqin practice. Perhaps another time?”

The hope in Xichen’s eyes began to dim. “But…you have studied so faithfully up until now,” he said, attempting a hesitant smile again. “And after being out of practice for a month, I would have thought-“

“Yes, precisely,” Guangyao said with false cheer. “Since you were kind enough to play for me almost every day as I healed, my own scrambling noises now sound abhorrent to me. I’m sorry, Er-ge. I’m sure I will feel much more enthusiastic after a short break.”

It seemed to take a few moments for this to sink in, before Xichen eventually nodded softly. “…then…shall I come back in a week?”

Guangyao tried to smile, but the thought of being separated from Lan Xichen on the one hand and revealing what he had done on the other were almost unbearable. “There is no rush. You are always welcome in Carp Tower, Zewu-jun, but do not come for me. Excuse me, I need to prepare for evening duties.”

He bowed and left a stunned Xichen behind in his wake, no doubt further struck by Guangyao’s sudden formality with him after so long. But this was the least he could do. A month of malingering while being serenaded by the most perfect creature in the universe, not to mention stealing his first kiss, were crimes that required a heavy penance. 

From that time, months passed with little change. Lan Xichen still visited Carp Tower about once a month in order to practice with and play for Guangyao. Each time he did, Guangyao had to use all his energy to hold back tears. It seemed harder and harder to do each time. Being apart from him, and his music, made his presence and the love Guangyao felt for him all the more intensely felt. 

Then one morning as he was preparing for the day, one of his informants approached him and whispered in his ear, “The Moling Su Clan’s clan leader, Su Minshan, is scarred all over his body.”

Guangyao took this in for a moment and nodded, dismissing the servant. It took him some time to draw the connection between Jin Zixun and Su She. It occurred to him that, although the two rarely met, the handful of occasions he could think of did seem to involve some amount of cruelty on Zixun’s part. But were casual insults really enough to curse someone over?

He found Su She alone in one of the smaller training grounds the next morning, which he was known to frequent. Su She seemed to like Guangyao a great deal, though he was quite transparent in his obsequiousness, and the fact that his devotion was due entirely to Guangyao’s having remembered his name. But as a result he greeted him warmly, and after exchanging pleasantries, Guangyao commented on the way he seemed to be scratching at his chest.

Su She blinked rapidly and looked away, unable to disguise his guilt. “Oh…it’s nothing. A rash.”

“Is that so? Well then drastic steps may need to be taken. I have seen Jin Zixun scratching in exactly the same way. Perhaps it is spreading.”

“No!” Su She cried hurriedly. 

Guangyao smiled at him with pity at how poorly concealed his plot was. Realizing he could never have hid it from Jin Guangyao to begin with, Su She folded in on himself until he crouched on the ground, holding his knees as if for comfort. 

“…he deserves it…” he grumbled.

Guangyao tilted his head to ponder that. “Arguably. But is it really revenge if the object doesn’t know who’s doing it to them, or why? I must say, this plot seems poorly conceived from the start, Minshan.”

Though he seemed once again touched to be referred to by his courtesy name by a superior, Su She looked pitiful and even on the verge of tears. “…Lianfang-zun…don’t tell them. I’ll stop. I won’t kill him.”

“The curse will do that eventually whether you continue casting it or not,” Guangyao said confidently. “It’s a matter of how soon and in how much agony he will perish. Of course, his suffering would be much eased if the caster himself died first.”

Su She’s eyes filled with fear as he crouched on the ground before Guangyao. Suddenly he shot to his feet and menaced the smaller man, all his deference morphed into frightened outrage. “I can’t die yet! Lianfang-zun! You’ve always been kind to me! Please, don’t end my life when it’s just beginning! You must take pity on me!”

Jin Guangyao closed his eyes tiredly, forced to calculate whether Jin Zixun or Su Minshan were more valuable alive. It took him a moment to realize there was no question it was Su Minshan. He was loyal to him, not without power of his own, and unable to threaten Jin Guangyao’s position. Why had he even considered saving Jin Zixun, who was at best indifferent toward him, and occasionally cruel? Because they were family? Why would that suddenly matter?

He opened his mouth to give the appropriate response, that he would help Su She as long as he followed his instructions. He had said the same thing countless times to others whose secrets he kept. But there was a sudden lurch in his heart that stopped the words coming out. His lips fell closed again.

Su She’s fear only seemed to grow at his continued silence. “You can’t! If you do…ah! If you do, it will reflect badly on the whole Jin family! Jin Zixun is not strong enough to hold back the Hundred Holes Curse, or even detect its caster!”

Guangyao barely even considered this option. He shook his head. “If the Jin family can withstand the presence of the son of a prostitute, it can withstand a cousin with poor cultivation.”

Su She’s distress grew, his eyes darting back and forth along the ground as he tried to think of another way out. “The Lan!” he said suddenly, at which point Guangyao’s confidence faded. “I was once a disciple of the Lan! If you tell the Jin what I did, I’ll tell everyone that I only lashed out because they taught me to do so!”

“…no one would believe such a thing.”

“Maybe not everyone. Maybe not at first,” Su She wheedled, drawing closer and whispering. “But you know better than most the power of words, Lianfang-zun. I know you. Any of these noble fops you would throw under a carriage wheel without a second thought. But Zewu-jun?”

As Guangyao’s eyes hardened and he glared at the misguided young cultivator, Su She let out a slightly crazed laugh.

“Yes…yes, that’s right. You’d do anything for him. Even to protect him from a baseless rumor.”

Few things had ever aggravated Jin Guangyao more than these few sentences spoken by someone whose devotion he thought was reliable. 

“…do nothing until I say,” he said at length. Looking up into his eyes to make sure the message was received, he added, “And conduct yourself with more care.”

“Yes, Lianfang-zun! You have my word!” said Su She, bowing deeply.

A situation like this would normally have been little more than mildly amusing to Jin Guangyao not long ago. And yet, as he left the training ground, he could not help feeling he was being pulled in opposite directions, with no escape from either path. That night, he brought out his guqin but did not play it, longing for far more dulcet notes than he himself could ever produce. He wondered what Lan Xichen might be doing at this moment. He longed to see his face, and cursed himself for such presumption in the same breath.


	8. Willow on the Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jin Guangyao discovers the worth he holds to his father, some happy news from his brother, and is heartbroken to learn what Xichen has done to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: sexism (Jin Guangshan brothel scene).

“…xiong-zhang…xiong-zhang.”

Lan Xichen blinked, facing his brother in mortification at his absent-mindedness. “Yes…Wangji. What is it?”

Lan Wangji briefly glanced up to meet his brother’s eyes, and Lan Xichen was probably the only person in the world who could see the deep worry in his stony expression. But he soon glanced away. “Uncle was asking whether you could grade the reports for him this evening.”

“Ah. Of course. Please tell him it’s no problem.”

Despite a lingering glance that implied Wangji did not entirely believe this response, he obediently left with it. 

Xichen could not tell Wangji what was bothering him, a fact Wangji might already be at least unconsciously aware of, and thus he did not press it. Even Xichen did not know why at first. Wangji did not dislike Jin Guangyao. Even his uncle seemed to have no issue with him, a stark contrast to his every other breath being dedicated to the disdain of Wei Wuxian. It took Xichen some time apart from him to realize that there was nothing about Jin Guangyao which would make talking about him immoral or crude. It was his own feelings.

On his last night of helping A-Yao through his injury, Xichen had had a rather strange, vivid dream. Though he gathered it was a dream brought on by the alcohol he had mistakenly drunk that night, it was unique in that he remembered almost all of it. It had been at times amusing, at times incredibly painful, and at times pure joy. In quiet moments, he replayed parts of it in his mind, trying to discover what it meant, but also continuously drawn to the fleeting sensations. 

He began to wonder if A-Yao’s skin really felt so soft to the touch. If he would ever shed tears over him. If he were capable of those sweet words that Xichen half remembered in a muddled haze. Surely not, he thought, and yet…

He sighed heavily, resolving to train twice as long as usual in the Cold Pond this evening. 

…

“…I have a devil whispering in my ear.”

Jin Guangyao’s words barely seemed to rise above the ambient noise of the empty room of the brothel in which he and Xue Yang waited, knowing Jin Guangshan was here and enjoying himself but that he would only be of a mood to leave once he had grown bored. 

Xue Yang, absently picking at his fingernails, raised an eyebrow up at him. “Is that unusual?”

Guangyao took a breath to consider. “It is recent.”

The young brigand smirked. “If the Lianfang-zun I know is one without a bad influence, I’d love to see you with one,” he said, slipping into his commoner dialect and further offending Jin Guangyao’s ears.

“If it were only bad, I do think I could keep in mind my ultimate goal and resist some amount of temptation,” Guangyao said introspectively. “But this devil is a curious one. It tells me to do things against my own self-interest. Out of…sentiment.”

“…I don’t see the problem. If you feel it, just go with it. You’re clever enough to keep yourself out of trouble even so.”

Guangyao closed his eyes tiredly. “For you, my friend, such impulsivity may be acceptable.”

“Ahh,” Xue Yang replied with a grin. “I keep forgetting. You like to keep that prissy little face on, for everyone to see, don’t you? Why do you care so much what they think? You know they’re all just as fake as you are.”

Of course, he was exactly right, in his own crude way. Why did anger flare inside Guangyao’s chest to hear this? It even kept him from replying as he feared he would shout if he spoke at all. It angered him to be accused of wearing a mask, even though he had been doing that since he was a child. It angered him to hear that the world he had fought tooth and nail to be a part of was just as empty and false as he feared. And in a way he had not felt before, it angered him how much despair rose up amid the righteous indignation. 

“…but Clan Leader Jin, you once favored an educated prostitute, didn’t you? The lady Meng Shi?”

The two men fell silent as one of the prostitutes with Jin Guangshan addressed him using the name of Jin Guangyao’s mother. 

“Oh, she was beautiful,” came Jin Guangshan’s voice, clearly audible even through the wall, as he always spoke in that booming and overbearing way. “But you all had better learn from her mistakes. I dropped her because she had too much learning. Very unattractive in a woman. Women, especially women like you, only need to be concerned with one thing: service.”

“So cruel!” replied the prostitute, though laughing playfully. “Didn’t she give you a son?”

Xue Yang’s gaze flicked over to Jin Guangyao. But Guangyao kept his trained to the floor, not permitting his body to move a single inch. 

“Son? Ah…forget it, forget it. Let’s keep drinking!”

Jin Guangyao concentrated very hard on keeping his expression neutral. It should not hurt this much. That was the only thing going through his mind for almost a full minute as he sat there, staring at the brothel floor. Intermittent images ran through his mind of all the trauma he had suffered, and the final one he had inflicted, in a place like this. All because that man in there couldn’t keep it in his pants, and didn’t like his whores to read. 

Even though he was here to retrieve that contemptable man, Jin Guangyao got to his feet. He didn’t even look twice at Xue Yang to see if he were following as he left the room and then then brothel entirely, shaking on his feet as he walked out into the street. 

He had a strange feeling as he walked through the clamor of the city, with faceless forms drifting past him, that there was nothing left of him. He had done everything in his power to reach this point, expended all his energy, and done some truly horrific things. Each one had cost him a piece of his soul. Had there been any point to any of it? Would he always be, as far as the world and his family were concerned, a pariah, an afterthought, an unspoken shame, not even worth the smallest pity?

His feet eventually brought him in a wandering manner to a willow tree shading a quiet spot of river bank. As he stood beneath its gently swaying branches, watching the shadows move across the slowly flowing water, his thoughts turned to a serene, smiling face that he had consciously driven away. He nearly fainted with the force of pleasant and painful memories of being by his side, doing nothing but enjoying each other’s company. He felt as if he had been cut clean in half by how much he wished to see his face, and how well he knew by now that such companionship could never be anything more.

Ignoring the damage it might do to the expensive sparks-amidst-snow he wore, he sank to the ground in defeat. He wished he were even able to cry, but no tears would come. 

Unfortunately his silent lamenting was soon interrupted by an unwelcome presence, leaning against the willow tree behind him. “So?” came Xue Yang’s bright but crude voice. “Now you know. Does it change anything?”

It took Guangyao much longer than usual to process these words. He felt numb. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly.

“…you’re still going to get the Stygian Tiger Seal, though, right?” Xue Yang asked, suddenly seeming less amused. “If not, you’re going to make Carp Tower an awfully stiff and boring place for me to be.”

“What? Oh…I don’t know,” he muttered dimly, not quite keeping up with the conversation.

Xue Yang sighed. “Well, work it out for yourself. You’re useless like this, so I’m going to go find some amusement.”

Grateful for his absence, Guangyao didn’t bother worrying about dealing with the aftermath of whatever Xue Yang found “amusing.” He sank back deeply into his own despair, thinking about what he had already done and the plans he had still in motion, and whether such a despotic tyrant as the one he had left in that brothel deserved one more drop of his sacrifice.

Looming in his mind in particular were three people who were in the direct line of harm from Jin Guangshan’s ambitions, and indirectly his own. Jin Zixun. Wei Wuxian. And most of all, Nie Mingjue. With the possible exception of Wei Wuxian, these were all people who Jin Guangyao would be happy to be rid of. But the price of killing them suddenly seemed extremely heavy. And yet worthless. 

He could not stop thinking about the few times that Nie Mingjue had fought for Jin Guangyao, instead of against him. The way he roared at his own men for their idle gossip about him. No one since his mother’s friend Sisi had ever taken his side that way, and Nie Mingjue barely knew him at the time that he had done that. Then there was the way he had selflessly let him go when he said he still wanted to join the Jin, during the Sunshot Campaign. The pain Mingjue had tried and failed to hide at his loss. Jin Guangyao knew, even though it was painful for him to admit as well, that that Da-ge was not entirely gone either.

As he observed the waving willow leaf shadows against sparks-amidst-snow on his lap, he wondered how different things would be now if he had simply stayed with the Nie. Perhaps he would be competing with Kang Ruien for Nie Mingjue’s affections, he thought with an almost-smile. Perhaps he would have similar recognition from the Nie as he now did from the Jin. But no, he realized, his brief amusement fading. Nie Mingjue still hadn’t forgiven him for what he had done to get close to Wen Ruohan. Nothing would change that.

He glanced down at his right hand, which still had signs of his recent injuries. His thumb now had a slight bump where it had broken, and his nail still had a ren line running down it, though it no longer hurt. If he were permitted, would this hand play for Nie Mingjue again? Was he still capable of doing him harm?

When he returned to Carp Tower, fortunately he had dallied so long that Jin Guangshan got back before him, therefore Madam Jin had no reason to beat him again. However, his father had some words for him. 

Apparently while left to his own devices, Xue Yang had gotten into a full blown street fight with Song Zichen, a young but powerful commoner cultivator known as the “distant snow and cold frost.” The fight was only broken up by the timely arrival of Xiao Xingchen, Song Lan’s companion and the “moon and cool breeze” to his frost and snow. Xue Yang had needed to be dragged back to Carp Tower by Xiao Xingchen, who requested that he be forbidden from leaving until his behavior improved.

“…I understand. A wise suggestion from Xiao Daozhang. I will speak to him in the meantime about his behavior,” Guangyao told his father as he finished telling him all this. 

Despite the transformative pain and anger he had experienced at this man’s tossed aside words only hours before, his years of fear and awe of him prompted him to reply obediently without thinking. 

Jin Guangshan nodded at first, but then looked his son up and down with a trace of suspicion. “I hear Clan Leader Nie’s anger is getting under control.”

Guangyao nodded, and by forcing himself, was able to form a small smile. “Yes. It is most welcome news.”

“Hmph,” Guangshan scoffed. “So then your little instrument might prove unnecessary.”

A swirling cloud of dark emotions roiled inside Guangyao’s stomach. “Perhaps. And if so, I will have to find other ways to be of service to him.”

Not failing to understand Guangyao’s meaning, the Jin clan leader flicked his chin up in a curt nod. “Well…see that you do.”

The following day, Lan Xichen graced him with one of his now-rare visits. Jin Guangyao felt a strange uneasiness that he could not identify at the thought of being in close quarters with Xichen, and in particular hearing his guqin, while his heart felt so turbulent. But he had already refused him twice recently, and any more would risk creating a rift between the Jin and Lan, which in his current position Jin Guangyao could not afford.

While listening to Xichen play, various images arose in Guangyao's mind. While thinking of how much he missed Xichen's presence when he was not here, he thought of the way he had longed for him underneath the willow tree. And then bitterness, anger and despair at what he had overheard his father say. While thinking of everything he had put them through, as the music changed and became more reverent, suddenly Guangyao could think of only his mother's face. How long had it been since he had missed her so badly?

He had been listening to Xichen play for some time before he realized there were tears dripping steadily down his cheeks. Xichen usually played with his eyes closed or on his fingers, so he hadn’t noticed. But then his song ended and he glanced up. He froze.

Guangyao could feel him staring. But what could he say? 

Without a word, Xichen put aside his guqin and knelt beside Guangyao. He placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “What is wrong? Tell me,” he said with unusual firmness.

He shook his head, pushing Xichen’s hand away. 

Xichen looked tormented. “I’m sorry. A-Yao, the pain that you are feeling…it is likely my fault.”

Guangyao looked blankly down at the floor in front of him, trying to find the thread of Xichen’s implication. But no matter how he thought about it, there was nothing. Lan Xichen had done nothing. Absolutely nothing, to anyone. He was such a moralistic pacifist it was almost a fault. With a questioning frown, Guangyao looked up at him for an answer. 

Xichen met his gaze at first, and in that moment Guangyao saw fear and guilt in his serene eyes. But then his gaze lowered as he struggled to put words to what he had done. 

“Your hand…do you remember? I helped you sleep in order to heal you,” Xichen said, his voice quivering slightly. 

Guangyao did remember. How had he forgotten? Likely the memory of Xichen drunkenly embracing him had blown away everything else. He would normally never let himself be so vulnerable in front of another person. But that said, if there were anyone in the world whom he thought he could trust not to hurt him, he would have thought it was Xichen. What was he saying?

“I…I’m sorry,” Xichen whispered again. “It wasn’t my intention to pry. I only wanted to make sure there was no other place he had hurt you-“

“You examined my qi…without my permission,” Guangyao summarized softly. And with this realization, a sliver of mistrust dug its way into his heart.

“Yes…” Xichen admitted. He closed his beautiful eyes in torment for a moment, and then began again, “I found a wound…an old wound, to your head. There was a place blood did not flow properly. I have been using these sessions to try to heal it.”

Guangyao felt as if he were locked inside an ice flow, and yet his eyes were burning. Tears flowed until his head started to hurt and he felt sick to his stomach. He wasn’t even sure why at first. The realization that, all this time, he had been a cripple. His mind, the one thing he had always felt was superior to others, had in fact been damaged. This was hard, but not nearly as hard as the emptiness that came with the realization that if he couldn’t trust Lan Xichen, he was entirely alone. 

Numb and trembling, he got to his feet. 

“A-Yao!” Xichen said worriedly, standing as well. 

“Don’t touch me,” Guangyao whispered, holding his hands out between Xichen and himself. He couldn’t move for a moment, trying to think of what to say. But no words were adequate to describe what was happening inside him. He turned and walked toward his door.

But just as he was about to leave, there was a knock at the door, followed quickly by an excited voice of a servant.

“Lianfang-zun! Lianfang-zun! Lady Jiang has had her baby! You are an uncle! Come, come and see the baby!”

He could not have described the varied feelings that ran through him in a fraction of a second. An uncle? It took him a moment to even remember what that term meant. His brother had a child. Logically, that meant next to nothing. And yet warmth pooled inside his chest at the word. An uncle. He was someone’s uncle. 

“…congratulations,” Xichen murmured softly.

Guangyao closed his eyes, wishing he could somehow transport himself far away. But this was not a moment he could afford to make a mistake. When he opened his eyes, he had found Jin Guangyao again.

“Tell my brother and Lady Jiang I am coming,” he said to the servant.

“Yes!” cried the servant, and hurried off.

He turned partly back toward Lan Xichen, just able to meet his gaze. “Zewu-jun,” he said. “Will you come and greet my…nephew?” His voice unintentionally hitched before the word. His cheeks felt hot with embarrassment, as he hoped Xichen hadn’t noticed.

Xichen was silent for a moment. “A-Yao…if we could just talk a little more-“

“I have nothing to say,” Guangyao said without emotion. But he felt guilty immediately after as he saw the despair he had caused on Lan Xichen’s face by saying it. Softly, he added, “Please let one of the servants know if you wish to stay and greet the baby. Otherwise, farewell.”

He left his quarters and went toward his brother’s wing of the estate without looking back.


	9. Qiongqi Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jin Guangyao's self-interest and his sentiment come into direct conflict, and his fortunes take a turn for the worse. Kang Ruien is surprised by an unexpected visitor in the Unclean Realm.

Babies frowned a lot, it seemed. Guangyao had not spent time with many, but the young Jin Rulan always seemed some degree of perturbed about something. He looked with fascination on both his parents, but other people seemed to scare him. At first he seemed to frown toward Guangyao too. But after Zixuan put him in Guangyao’s arms, and he smiled down at him, little Rulan looked up at Guangyao with fascination too.

“A-Yao?” came his father’s voice, drawing him from his reverie. Guangyao blinked up at him, having been tuning out Jin Zixun’s raging about all the evils of Wei Wuxian, which had been going on for some time. “What do you say?”

The subject was whether or not Wei Wuxian should be invited to Rulan’s first month celebration. Unfortunately, ever since learning what Xichen had been trying to do, Guangyao felt more and more fear each time he opened his mouth in public. Did he still have all his faculties? Would he be able to tell the difference between self-interest and emotion?

“Wei Wuxian is a liability as an enemy,” he said, in his practiced voice. “Of course if he can be brought into the fold, we should make every attempt to do so.”

He felt cold as soon as the words left his mouth. A voice inside him told him that was a mistake. It was not too late to change it. But to do so was far more terrifying than simply allowing events to unfold.

“He is not an enemy,” came the dark voice of Lan Wangji, cutting through his uncertainty. 

Guangyao nodded and smiled with restrained apology. “Forgive me. Yes. ‘Enemy’ was too strong.”

“Father,” said Zixuan plaintively. “I hope our marriage can soothe any strife between the four clans, and Wei Wuxian. Please at least allow my wife to send him an invitation, and see how he will respond.”

Lan Xichen too faced Jin Guangshan, bowed and said, “Gusu Lan Sect will be on hand to keep the peace. We will ensure there is no danger to Young Master Rulan.”

Lan Wangji copied his bow in order to strengthen the sentiment.

“Uncle!” Zixun said in outrage at his reasonable fears not being listened to. 

But after a quick glance toward Jin Guangyao, the clan leader nodded.

“A-Yao’s point is sound,” Jin Guangshan muttered. “There is much to be gained by making peace with Wei Ying. If he accepts the invitation, we will proceed from there.”

Jin Guangyao’s skin felt clammy as the discussion came to a close, despite Jin Zixun’s vehement objections. But why did he feel this anxiety? He was certain he had stated the most logical position, and at the same time one which might secretly assist in his father’s ambition of obtaining the Stygian Tiger Seal. There should be nothing to fear.

He left the hall to resume his daily obligations and to begin preparations for the ceremony. He realized after a few moments that he was being followed. 

“A-Yao…”

He ignored Lan Xichen and continued walking, though he did not increase his pace. With the difference in their stride, Xichen was easily able to keep pace with him, though he remained a few steps behind. 

“You don’t look well. Please let me help.”

Guangyao stopped, unable to bear the humiliation of being pitied by someone he himself was doing everything he could think of to protect. Xichen’s continued pretending to care about him, despite knowing that he was damaged, was even worse. He painted a false smile on his face and turned to meet Lan Xichen’s gaze. 

“I’ve been meaning to say, Er-ge, I was wrong to react so harshly when you attempted to help me. I’m sorry. And thank you, for what you were trying to do.”

“A-Yao-“

“But don’t you think it’s time we ended the charade?” he asked with a gentle tilt of his head.

He was heartbroken as Xichen’s divine face took on shades of hurt and confusion. “…charade? What…?”

“I can never care for you the way you do for me,” Jin Guangyao said in a soft voice which hopefully, even in his palace full of spies, only Xichen could hear. “You went so far as to try to alter my mind to make it so that I could, but it failed. And I remain broken, deceitful, self-serving, and black-hearted in a way you can never understand,” he whispered, offering a smile that had no warmth in it, almost as if to prove his words. “Shouldn’t we stop pretending you could care for someone while trying to change everything about him?”

Xichen’s normally peaceful eyes had grown slowly wider as he listened to these words which were designed to be daggers to his heart. As his gaze lowered, those eyes were wet with tears. He gazed at the ground between them, stunned into silence.

But as Guangyao accepted this reaction and turned to leave, Xichen’s pleasant and husky voice cracked slightly as it struck straight through Guangyao’s chest, saying, “You’re right. But please let me help anyway.”

“…anyway?” Guangyao repeated in disbelief, reluctantly turning back in order to round a glare up at him. “Zewu-jun, your hearing is impeccable, so I assume you heard what I said. Did you understand it? I can’t be cured. I’ll never be what you want me to be.”

“Yes,” Xichen said softly, his eyes still lowered, and tears continuing to drip down his face. “I accept that what I did was wrong, A-Yao, but I didn’t do it because I wanted to change you. I never expected…you would share my feelings. I wanted to help you for the same reason that I still do: because I love you, and I can’t bear to see you in pain.”

Guangyao had to struggle to keep his feet under him. He wasn’t drunk, was he? But a sober Xichen couldn’t be saying these things out loud. Even if he felt them. 

“You…don’t…love me,” he emphasized each syllable softly, realizing his own eyes were beginning to tear but feeling he couldn’t stop now. “You should know enough by now that you can’t. And that even if you did care for me, it is hopeless.” He took in several shaking breaths, but Xichen’s soft look of despair as he watched the ground at his feet did not change. “Enough, Lan Xichen. Leave me be.”

He whirled away and furiously wiped his eyes, ashamed that he had shed tears over someone who, despite being seemingly the most trustworthy person in the world, he apparently should not have trusted in the first place. He had been more or less accepting of Xichen’s unspoken feelings for him up until now. Yet for some reason, hearing them out loud made them sound utterly preposterous. It was Xichen’s fault that his position here with the Jin might be in jeopardy from these fractious emotions clouding his mind. He owed him nothing, he told himself, wiping away the tears that refused to stop.

Finally, the day of the first month celebration arrived. But that morning, as he was taking a stroll to sort through his thoughts before he became busy, one of his spies stopped him to tell him something unsavory was happening at the stable. Jin Zixun, and a large group of Jin myrmidons, led by his personal guard, were preparing to depart Carp Tower secretly. 

Guangyao’s stomach twisted. This was the moment he had both hoped for and feared. If the two came into direct conflict, it didn’t matter how many myrmidons Jin Zixun brought with him. He would die. Peace with Wei Wuxian would also become impossible, as he would surely take the attack as orchestrated by the Jin. There was a small chance Wei Wuxian would die too, but Guangyao wouldn’t bet on it. And the result…

Jin Zixun would die. His family would be sad, and likely angry. Jin Guangshan might even use Zixun’s death as an excuse to attack the Burial Mounds, but likely he would not get the support of the other clans. Jiang Yanli would surely feel she had forever lost her brother this time. And the Stygian Tiger Seal would remain with Wei Wuxian, until…well, presumably until it destroyed him, as the yin iron had done Xue Chonghai. No one had ever successfully cultivated the demonic path before. 

And once it consumed him, the Lan would advocate that the item be sealed or destroyed. Their voice would carry. The other clans would agree, even if the Chief Cultivator objected. The Nie would stand with them. The Jiang most certainly would too, out of Jiang Wanyin’s sense of personal responsibility. And so, it would be lost. And with it, possibly Jin Guangyao’s only chance to gain his father’s approval.

If he tried to save Jin Zixun, the result would still be the same. Yes, his cousin would be alive, his new sister-in-law would not have to lament the loss of her brother, but Guangyao himself would gain nothing. Worse, he would be forced to explain why he knew about Zixun’s affliction and did nothing. The only way he could change anything about the result would be if he obtained the Stygian Tiger Seal. 

He had nothing to gain and everything to lose by trying to prevent this conflict. There was no way to say when or if Wei Wuxian would be this vulnerable again. There was no option. He had to go.

He considered sending Su Minshan in his place, but the thought of him cursing a member of the Jin for so small an offense – when Guangyao personally felt he had endured far more without the slightest break in his composure – rankled him. He no longer trusted the young cultivator with important tasks, particularly where his family was involved. 

Guangyao’s fingers as he drew Hensheng were shaking slightly. He knew why but did not want to think about it. Just as he was about to mount his sword and try to head Zixun off, he heard a familiar voice.

“A-Yao?”

He tried to convince himself he was not disappointed that it was the voice of Jin Zixuan, not Lan Xichen. He turned reluctantly to meet his brother’s gaze. 

Zixuan looked at his drawn sword and the way he was facing out from Carp Tower, toward Qishan. “Are you going somewhere? We’ll need you soon…”

Zixuan should not come, Guangyao thought immediately. If he told him where he was going, he would insist on doing exactly that. Guangyao offered his half-brother a reluctant smile. “A small errand. I’ll do my best to be back before any of the guests arrive.”

Though he did not often show it, the truth was that Jin Zixuan was quite unusually perceptive and intelligent, and this cast off explanation didn’t seem to wash with him. “…what kind of errand?” he asked, and Guangyao knew immediately that he sensed something was wrong. 

“It’s nothing,” Guangyao said with a world-weary smile. “A small disturbance, no more. I’ll handle it and make sure it doesn’t interfere with the festivities.”

“By yourself?”

Guangyao sighed with a hint of a genuine smile. He could not explain why, but recently – especially since his marriage – Zixuan seemed to have become quite fond of Guangyao. The worry in his eyes appeared sincere. Despite wishing for the leeway to be able to feel moved by this, it only increased the feeling that Zixuan should stay here, and not become involved.

“I may not be the most cultivated, but don’t worry, Zixuan. I have my tricks. I’ll be fine,” he said, allowing his true feelings to creep up in his voice.

“Then…be safe. And quick, if you can.”

He nodded. “Of course.”

He mounted Hensheng and flew directly along the path that led from Carp Tower to the Burial Mounds. There were several locations he could think of that would be suitable for an ambush, but the best strategic advantage by far would be on Qiongqi Road. It didn’t take him long to find Wei Wuxian walking pleasantly along with Wen Ning trailing slightly behind him. 

He realized he could attack them from right where he was. Of course, alone he would stand no chance against either of them. But when Zixun attacked, as he most certainly would, and soon, it would create an opening. He was still hovering above them as his heartrate rose, and the possibilities teemed through his mind. 

A rustle of bushes at the top of the gorge that Wei Wuxian was walking through. The glint of an arrowhead. Guangyao’s breath caught. Without thinking, he flew down and cut the arrow out of the air as it flew toward Wei Wuxian’s head. 

He landed in the bottom of the gorge, some distance away from the two he had presumably come here to at least rob if not assassinate. And had just given up his one advantage of surprise. He closed his eyes in self-disgust. 

“Uh…Jin Guangyao?” asked Wei Wuxian curiously. Guangyao had to confess to being somewhat disturbed by this young man’s appearance compared to the last time he had seen him. His eyes were sunken and his skin pale and sallow from lack of sunlight and poor nutrition. It appeared as if something were sucking the life force from him. Nevertheless, he cocked half a confused smile. “Are you…shooting arrows at me, or defending me? What’s going on?”

Guangyao sighed. He really didn’t hate Wei Wuxian, but sometimes his complete lack of a sense of gravitas was extremely off-putting. “I suppose…defending,” he said reluctantly.

“Wei Wuxian!” roared Jin Zixun, his voice echoing from the top of the gorge. He appeared there as all three men looked up. “You will answer for your crimes!”

“Oh yeah? Fair enough. Just one question: who are you?”

Zixun was clearly about to burst into an unstoppable rage, so Guangyao did his best to interrupt it.

“Zixun,” Guangyao called up to him. “Stand down. This will only make things worse.”

“A-Yao…?” Zixun murmured with betrayal streaked across his face. “How can you take his side?! Were you lying when you said you considered me properly your cousin?! How can you all be so blind to his evil?!! Look what he did!”

He tore open the chest of his robes, revealing a plethora of scarred and mangled marks over his flesh. 

“The Hundred Holes Curse?” Wei Wuxian muttered, looking genuinely surprised. But then he would be.

“Yes! See what he’s done!” Zixun screamed, clearly at his wit’s end already.

Guangyao shook his head calmly. “Zixun, you have no proof. Instead, what you are doing is potentially starting a war. A war in which we would have to fight against our own dead, as we did with Wen Ruohan.”

“We beat him then!!”

“We did. And thanks to whom?” Guangyao asked pointedly, flicking his gaze over at Wei Wuxian himself to make his meaning clear even to one as slow as Zixun. 

Wei Wuxian scoffed. “All I did was make a mess,” he said, with a note of something hidden in his words. “Lianfang-zun is too modest.”

“Zixun!” a new voice echoed through the gorge.

All eyes suddenly turned to the sky, where Jin Zixuan was riding Suihua down to them. Guangyao’s chest tightened. He ran over to him as he landed. 

“Zixuan…you shouldn’t be here,” Guangyao murmured under his breath. “Go back. I said I would handle it.”

With his eyes at the top of the gorge, Zixuan scowled and muttered, “You seem outnumbered.”

“It’s a misunderstanding, just let me handle it,” Guangyao said firmly. 

“Zixuan…are you on his side too?” Zixun wailed. “You’d choose your wife’s corrupt, black-hearted little brother over your own cousin’s life?!” he demanded, again gesturing to the ruined flesh of his chest.

Jin Zixuan saw the scars and showed real sympathy for a moment, but slowly shook his head. “Even if it were true, this would not be the way to go about getting justice, Zixun. Why did you not just tell someone? Of course we would investigate, and the guilty person would be punished.”

“You’d never touch him! I know by now, the world smiles on the treacherous Wei Wuxian. Well I’ll make you see. And if you don’t get out of the way, Zixuan, I won’t hold back just to spare you,” Jin Zixun whispered, preparing to order his archers to fire.

“Zixun!” Guangyao roared in a voice totally unlike his own. His skin felt hot. Fear and anxiety about two unwelcome fates that he could see directly before his eyes fought against one another until it was difficult to think of opening his mouth again. But he knew now that there was only one way to stop this.

Guangyao’s gaze turned to his brother. Jin Zixuan looked just as innocent and confused as the other two, but for possibly the first time, he was standing with both Guangyao and Wei Wuxian. These two people, who were given everything that Guangyao had fought for and failed to achieve all his life, for once felt like his equals. With the birth of Jin Rulan, they three were now even more firmly connected, by blood and by family. As he thought this, he felt his logic slipping away.

He slowly closed his eyes. “It’s not him.”

Even Zixun stopped at the soft certainty in Jin Guangyao’s voice as it echoed softly through the gorge. Pain twisted his features. “Why can you say this? A-Yao…it couldn’t be…you…?”

Guangyao sighed, shaking his head. “Not me,” he murmured softly. “But…I know who.”

At that moment, the sound of a flute cut cleanly through the tense atmosphere. From the echoes in the gorge, no one could tell where it was coming from. But even though Chenqing was still dormant, clasped at Wei Wuxian’s side, dark energy began to swirl around the Ghost General, Wen Ning. 

To the shock of all, it looked initially as if he swiped a hand out toward Wei Wuxian himself, who only just avoided the deadly swing. Then quick as a flash, Wen Ning suddenly stood before Jin Zixuan, who was next nearest. Guangyao sent Hensheng out in front of him to deflect the first attempt to grab Zixuan. He grabbed Zixuan around his waist and attempted to pull him back, but the result was that when Wen Ning slammed his palm into both of them, the shock was still enough to dislocate Jin Guangyao’s shoulder and crack Zixuan’s ribs before sending them flying through the air. 

They landed painfully, the wind knocked out of both of them. It took Guangyao several moments to restore his breath and become conscious of his surroundings, but by then it was too late. 

Wen Ning had easily leapt to the top of the gorge. A dead Zixun dangled from his grasp, his neck clearly broken. 

“Su…Minshan…” Guangyao rasped to Wei Wuxian, the only one close enough to hear. “Find…him…”

The flute abruptly stopped as the player tried to escape, and Wei Wuxian’s keen ears picked up the direction from which it had gone silent. He briefly turned back to Jin Guangyao and nodded, then was off like a flash and after the mysterious flute-player. 

His brother, though at least still alive, looked at Guangyao in restrained horror. “A-Yao…?” he said cautiously, as if he did not want to believe what he was about to ask. “Just now…why did you know that it wasn’t Wei Wuxian?”

Guangyao lowered his head, despair sinking over him with the pain in his shoulder. To the myrmidons nearby the corpse of Jin Zixun, he shouted with difficulty, “Do not approach the Ghost General! Do not try to fight him! Go and assist Wei Wuxian in the capture of the Moling Su Clan Leader, Su Minshan!”

“What…are we to fight him alone?” Zixuan asked, indicating Wen Ning, though wincing as talking was enough to cause severe pain in his freshly broken ribs. 

Guangyao shook his head. “He’s not being controlled now. Look.”

Wen Ning was looking up in shock at the dead man he still held aloft in his hand. Slowly, he lowered Zixun’s body to the earth and knelt over him, desperately trying to help before realizing it was hopeless. He crumpled to the ground. But once he realized there was no danger, once again, Jin Zixuan cast a clearly horrified look on the one he had come to trust and treat as a real brother.

With the help of Wei Wuxian, Su She was indeed captured and brought back to Carp Tower, along with the body of Jin Zixun. Guangyao had no memory of getting back. He knew his life was over the moment Zixuan looked at him like that. But he did remember telling his father when he arrived that, in addition to Su She, he himself should also be confined in order to avoid casting a pall over young Jin Rulan’s celebration. He also apologized for his part in the delay of the event.

He expected a prison cell like Su She, but initially he was placed inside his own quarters, though under an armed guard. And when Jin Rulan’s celebration had ended, and the majority of clans returned home the same day - kept in the dark for now about the fate of Jin Zixun - he was brought before the leaders of the four clans. 

A heavy silence hung over the hall as he was made to kneel before his father. He could feel the gossip in the silent gazes all around him. Of course. What else could one expect of a son of a whore?

“Is Su Minshan still alive?” Guangyao asked, before the inevitable inquisition began.

“Yes.”

To his surprise, the answer came from Nie Mingjue, who was seated to his right. 

Jin Guangshan bristled. “I can assure you he won’t be for long.”

“…may I speak to him before he dies?” Guangyao asked casually, knowing full well that the last thing he should be doing right now was furthering his association with Su She.

Sure enough, the entire tone of the hall seemed to grow darker and more intent. He felt pierced through as hateful gazes from all directions gave him no rest. 

“Why would you wish to do that?” asked Guangshan with a bitter expression.

“I brought him here, and it is my fault that he will die at a young age,” Guangyao answered simply, keeping his gaze respectfully down. 

After a heavy silence, it was Jin Zixuan who spoke up with painful gentleness, “A-Yao…you are making things worse for yourself. You were the one who brought him here, brought the Moling Su Sect into Carp Tower. Please just tell us…did you bring Su She here to kill Zixun?”

Guangyao sighed irritably. “I am not above subterfuge as you know, but give me a little credit for having more subtlety. More than that, for what reason would I try to kill Jin Zixun?”

“It’s not true…” came a whisper and a sigh of relief from his right and slightly behind him. Even whispered, he recognized Xichen’s voice. But he didn’t dare look at him now, and couldn’t even understand why he would be relieved.

“But…you allowed him to be cursed, and didn’t try to help him,” Zixuan said, looking heartbroken.

To that, Guangyao had nothing to say. It was true. No amount of context would change the fact that he had done nothing to prolong Jin Zixun’s life until the whim happened to take him as he flew over Qiongqi Road. His cousin’s death was on his hands. His silence was all the answer the four clans seemed to require.

“Clan Leader Jin,” came Lan Xichen’s voice, along with a rustle of silk indicating that he had stood, but Guangyao still refused to look in his direction. “Jin Guangyao has erred, but he clearly attempted to right that mistake by leading us to the perpetrator today. I would ask mercy on his behalf. And I offer the Cloud Recesses as a location of seclusion, healing and penance, so that your son may return to you without the blemish of his crimes.”

“What’s wrong with a jail cell?” growled Nie Mingjue. “It’s overdue if you asked me.”

Jin Guangshan made an uncomfortable noise. “I shall not have a member of the Jin malinger in prison. But…Clan Leader Nie’s point is well made. Seclusion is no punishment at all.” Guangshan shook his head sadly. “My lady was right all along. It was too early to acknowledge someone so ambitious and short-sighted.” He straightened his back in his chair and had the rare appearance of an actual leader. “You have been given a chance, and you have squandered it. From this moment, you are Meng Yao again.”

Guangyao’s blood froze in his veins. He expected to be executed. At the very least, to spend the rest of his life in prison. But this was too much to bear. He raised a shaking gaze up toward his supposed father, though now he could only see a demon in a thin veil of skin. 

“You cannot…you have acknowledged me once…the whole world knows who I am…”

Guangshan scoffed, looking away. “They knew. Long before you were brought here, they knew. And they’ll forget again too. And once again, it’ll be you they talk about in hushed whispers and behind closed doors, and not this family.”

“I have done everything you asked!” Yao screamed, charging to his feet. 

At Guangshan’s gesture, two guards grabbed him and yanked him back, not simply to his knees again but back toward the entrance to the hall and beyond, to the high steps of Carp Tower.

“And in recognition of that fact, you will be neither killed nor imprisoned, but merely banished from Lanling,” Guangshan said, looking down at him as he was dragged out without the slightest hint of pity. “If you can’t find other employment, take up your mother’s trade. You’ll be good at that.”

Guangyao cried out loud, ashamed of himself more every moment, but the guards stripped him of his sword, of the sparks-amidst snow he wore, and his gauze cap. And then, though he scrabbled desperately to avoid it, they threw him bodily from the top of the stairs. 

The way down seemed to take an eternity. It seemed far more painful than the last time, and his injury from Wen Ning had nothing to do with it. He had sacrificed everything, become a devil, and all to be exactly where he started when his mother had finally perished all those years ago, and he had come here for help. When he reached the bottom, he knew, he was Meng Yao again. And so he would remain.

It took him some time to get to his feet. In fact the only thing which spurred him on was the sound of fluttering silk and a flash of white in the corner of his eye. Before Lan Xichen could help him up, he forced himself to his feet. He once again bowed, shaking and bloodstained, to the man who had broken him from the day he was born. And though Xichen tried again and again to detain him, he simply turned and left Carp Tower, then Lanling in its entirety.

…

It had been weeks since anyone had word of Jin Guangyao. Or rather, Meng Yao. Kang Ruien still wasn’t sure it was appropriate to be calling him that, as he had once been acknowledged by his father and that should last his whole life. Nie Mingjue was not taking his fate particularly well, at times despondent and at others having a hair trigger on his anger. He went night hunting far more often, and relied on Ruien less. But he trusted that this would only last until Mingjue had grieved enough, and he needed Ruien’s patience.

But one evening of heavy rain, as Ruien was preparing to sleep alone, he caught an unfamiliar shadow in the corner of his eye. And yet the presence itself was familiar. He stopped in the alley between the main buildings and the servant’s complex, facing the shadow that was waiting under the eaves, taking shelter from the rain. 

At Ruien’s consistent attention, the shadow sighed. A dripping and shivering figure, even more slight and small than Ruien remembered, emerged into the torchlight. Meng Yao’s cheeks were sunken and his eyes heavy with exhaustion, but he held his head high and folded his hands over his soaked commoner’s cloak. 

“Master Kang,” he said, in a voice that could not completely hide his shivering. As he looked closer, Ruien realized his forehead and cheeks looked warm, even though the rest of him must be freezing. “Forgive the suddenness of my arrival, but…I believe I am in need of help.”

Ruien hesitated, knowing the only appropriate response was to raise the alarm and put the interloper into a jail cell. But something stopped him. He could not say if it was compassion for Nie Mingjue, who despite what he might say would be forever broken if Meng Yao were to die of fever in a jail cell, or whether it was compassion for this complex man himself. Either way, he soon ran out of time to consider it.

Speaking these words seemed to have robbed Meng Yao of the last of his strength, and his eyes drew heavy, his head drooped forward. Before Ruien could even reach out to catch him, he crumpled in a heap to the ground. 

Ruien sighed. But he knew he was far too much of a soft touch to abandon someone in this condition, no matter the reason. He gathered the wet and freezing bundle into his arms and brought him into his room, where he prepared a bath and fresh clothes, and considered exactly how much trouble he would be in if Nie Mingjue found out.


	10. Keeping a Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Meng Yao slowly recovers from sickness and malnutrition, Kang Ruien attempts to find him a more permanent situation.

Meng Yao fought a fever and the aftereffects of malnutrition for three days. It should not have taken someone with high cultivation so long to recover from illness, but in his rare moments of lucidity, his expression showed only defeat. Even when he was finally conscious on the fourth morning, Ruien found him with his legs tucked up to his chest, gazing out the window at the gray skies outside without any expression. 

Ruien sighed and took a seat beside him on the bed, setting down the tray of food he brought with him. “How about some solid food today?” he asked. 

Meng Yao took a breath in and seemed to be attempting to find the correct expression for facing Ruien. In the end, he seemed dissatisfied with his options and his face remained neutral. He glanced at the tray of food. 

“I thought meat would be too hard on your stomach, so it’s mostly just root vegetables and rice,” Ruien explained. “And…without seasoning. Sorry if it’s too bland.”

Meng Yao shook his head dismissively. “Not at all. Before the age of twelve I ate little but cooked millet and half-rotten vegetables. Thank you.”

Ruien nodded, though he was feeling somewhat taken aback that Meng Yao would admit something so personal to him. If this were Meng Yao without a mask, though he might be a little depressing, Ruien decided he didn’t dislike him. 

After he had picked at his food for a time, Meng Yao glanced at Ruien again. “Nie Mingjue must not know that I am here, or I presume he would be tearing the Unclean Realm apart.”

“Correct,” Ruien said simply.

He pushed himself off the bed and moved to another part of the room to fix his hair properly for the day. He had only casually pulled it out of his face in order to wake up early and prepare food for Meng Yao, but Nie Mingjue was surprisingly fastidious about his myrmidons’ appearance.

“…is anyone suspicious?”

“Well. The head cook thinks I’m secretly keeping a dog,” Ruien answered wryly. 

Meng Yao’s eyes flicked skyward in mild exasperation. “I suppose I’ve been called worse,” he said, insincerely. But then he grew more serious and murmured, “It is a risk…a great risk to you to do this for me.”

Ruien glanced at him but said nothing. He placed his humble copper diadem in his hair as if he had heard nothing.

Meng Yao frowned up at him with an air of mild frustration. But eventually his gaze lowered again in reluctant humility. “If you’re seeking to blackmail me, I’m afraid the days of my being able to answer any monetary or political demands are behind me.”

Ruien raised an eyebrow at him, making it clear with his expression alone – on his clearly foreign face – how ridiculous it was to think any of those things might be of use to him.

It took Meng Yao a moment, but he eventually seemed to accept this. “All right…I see,” he said distantly, as if speaking to himself.

Ruien bent down to the water basin he kept on his dresser, splashing some water on his face to refresh himself for the day. Bent down, he did not notice as the frail Meng Yao got out of bed and slowly approached him, all the while loosening the robe Ruien had lent him. In fact he only noticed his presence when the cloth fluttered to the ground in the corner of his eye. 

He gasped and backed against his dresser as a naked Meng Yao drew in close, placing a hand against his chest. “You’re surprisingly muscular for your size…” Meng Yao commented, in a voice that was suddenly sweet and softly erotic. “As I am now, I’m almost afraid you’ll break me.”

Breathing harshly, Ruien tried to get his thoughts together. Even though he had to acknowledge that even a sickly Meng Yao was more beautiful than anyone he had been with, the noticeable appearance of his emaciated ribs and hips was only pitiful. But no, he chastised himself. More importantly, he had to explain to him that this was unnecessary.

“A-Yao…look…I didn’t do this for any reward,” he explained softly. 

Meng Yao nodded, his eyes still cast down toward Ruien’s chest. “Of course. I’m just showing my gratitude.”

His hand began to slide down Ruien’s chest, growing closer and closer to a highly sensitive area. Ruien finally grasped his wrist, and again felt a wave of pity as he realized how small and weak it felt in his hand. 

“And I appreciate that gratitude,” Ruien said, concentrating hard on not having a physical reaction to a naked Meng Yao clasped in his grasp. “But I assure you, the sentiment alone is enough.”

Meng Yao looked up at him with a hint of confusion. “I don’t understand. Then why do this?”

Ruien sighed. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “For the moment, your appearance is quite distracting. Please put on clothes and get back into bed.”

“…by myself?” Meng Yao repeated dubiously, as if he still couldn’t grasp that Ruien didn’t want anything from him. 

“Yes. Tempting though it is, please allow me to decline.”

Though still seeming puzzled, Meng Yao did bend down to retrieve his robe, and allowed Ruien to guide him back into bed. “So what do you plan on doing with me?” he asked once there.

“…am I your husband, or your father? Why should I do anything with you?” Ruien asked in return, now almost annoyed that the normally strikingly intelligent Meng Yao still wasn’t understanding him.

Meng Yao shrugged his scrawny shoulders. “You can’t keep me a secret forever, Kang Ruien. And I have nowhere else to go.”

Ruien let out a reluctant sigh. This was true. Eventually he would have to tell Nie Mingjue, but there was a way to go about these things and he would have to be extremely cautious and plan well. Even so, there was still a possibility that Mingjue would refuse to tolerate Meng Yao’s presence, and would banish him from Qinghe too, if not outright imprison him or kill him. 

Another possibility occurred to him, however. Ruien glanced at the frail creature in his bed, looking him up and down in appraisal, thinking of when he had first met him. “Assuming Clan Leader Nie neither accepts you nor kills you on the spot-“

“If we’re betting, I favor the latter,” Meng Yao interjected bitterly.

“-what would you say to moving to the Cloud Recesses?”

Meng Yao’s already pale face seemed to grow even more so. For a moment he even seemed to grow older in just a few seconds, weariness and despair pulling him down toward the earth. His eyes flicked dangerously in Ruien’s general direction. “Are you mocking me?” he asked in an undertone.

Ruien said nothing, curious about this reaction and wanting to see where it was coming from.

Meng Yao aimed an unforgiving glare at him. “Don’t insult me by assuming I don’t know who you are, Kang Ruien. If it concerns Nie Mingjue, you are not ignorant. I concern Da-ge, therefore if it is about me, you know it too. So you know I’m in a pathetic, hopeless love with him.”

Ruien only took this in with mild interest, quite aware he was not talking about Nie Mingjue. “Strange. I had heard it was the other way around.”

“…heard where?” Meng Yao demanded with a sudden urgency. Not excitement, to Ruien’s surprise, but rather indignation.

Ruien shoved his head back toward the main buildings, specifically Nie Mingjue’s study, adding a sardonic look that seemed to ask where else he might have heard it. 

Meng Yao read his expression carefully to make sure, but then his eyes lowered in despair again. “The wedding…” he guessed softly.

Ruien nodded. Though Mingjue had not told the story in detail, one thing he referred to repeatedly in his rages was how foolish Xichen was for caring about this man. Only a transparent confession from the restrained and elegant man would provoke such persistent anger. 

“Well no matter who loves whom,” Ruien dismissed the issue. “He remains your only vocal supporter. If Clan Leader Nie will not have you, you may not have another choice.”

“I’ll have another choice,” Meng Yao murmured with soft certainty, with no light in his eyes. “Clan Leader Jin was right. There is one trade I can do that does not ask for reputation or pedigree, and even turns a blind eye to other crimes.”

Ruien let out a heavy, exasperated breath. “I see,” he said softly, feeling unusually verbose in his growing irritation with this man. “You would rather torment Lan Xichen to death with worry than accept his help. It’s reassuring to see that you haven’t lost your overwhelming self-obsession.”

Meng Yao took in a sharp breath and looked as if he had been slapped. “I…he…” he seemed to excite himself a little too much and struggled to breathe properly. Ruien helped him lay back in the bed. Meng Yao closed his eyes and tightened his jaw in torment. “There’s no way out,” he whispered. “He’ll suffer no matter what I do.”

“Then you might as well suffer together,” Ruien said simply, then got up and left him to ponder that. 

…

Later that night, Ruien knocked on Nie Mingjue’s chamber door. 

“Come in.”

Though he entered as he usually would, closing the door softly behind him, after seeing that Mingjue was sitting with his ankle propped on his knee, polishing a piece of his armor, Ruien took the unusually bold step of sliding his knee alongside his clan leader’s leg on the bed. As Mingjue raised an eyebrow at him, but obediently set aside his armor, Ruien straddled his waist and wrapped his arms affectionately around his neck.

He expected a reproach for this behavior, but was unexpectedly relieved when Mingjue’s expression softened. His arms wrapped around Ruien, supporting his back, and when he looked up, his eyes lingered on Ruien’s lips. 

They shared a slow, sweet kiss. Mingjue ran the backs of his fingers along Ruien’s cheek, then shifted some of his hair off his shoulder, stroking it to gently smooth out the tangles. Ruien’s heart swelled in his chest at all this affectionate behavior, and he almost forgot what he was trying to do. 

“Clan Leader,” he said softly, trying to return some of Mingjue’s affectionate touching by clasping his face in both hands, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs. “I have a favor to ask.”

Mingjue frowned with mild displeasure. “It’s irritating how well you know me,” he said, and to Ruien’s surprise, he seemed to be referring to his own receptiveness to favors after having been flirted with. “Speak.”

“Well…a friend of mine is ill, and has sent me a message requesting a particular medicinal herb that doesn’t grow well in his home, in Guangling. May I have your permission to travel there tomorrow to bring it to him?”

Mingjue’s frown increased, and became hardened with suspicion. “What friend?”

“A former myrmidon of the Nie, who has since become a farmer. His name is Chang Lu.”

“Oh…I remember,” Mingjue muttered, seeming almost disappointed. “Why would he ask you and not me?”

“You terrify him, Clan Leader.”

“Hmph,” Mingjue scoffed. “Only the weak-willed and criminals are afraid of me. If he’s afraid then he deserves to be.”

Ruien offered a soft smile. “Agreed,” he said, to which Mingjue glanced up at him with surprise. He placed a kiss on Mingjue’s forehead as a parent would. “The righteous have nothing to fear from you.”

“…so you don’t fear me?” Mingjue murmured, almost under his breath. 

He shrugged playfully. “Oh I wouldn’t be so sure. I can be surprisingly wicked, Clan Leader.”

Mingjue raised an eyebrow, but he seemed to catch on to the game. “Is that so?”

Ruien tilted his head noncommittally. Mingjue scoffed once more, but then grasped Ruien firmly and spun him around, pinning him to the bed on his back. Ruien smiled up appreciatively at him, brushing some of Mingjue’s unruly hair from his face. 

“Then I’ll have to keep a better eye on you to keep you out of mischief,” Mingjue told him in his soft, rumbling bass. 

“See that you do,” Ruien said, very much hoping that his enthusiasm, and the deep kiss which followed, would assuage any worries Mingjue had about where he might be going tomorrow. Of course it was not to Guangling, but rather to the neighboring Gusu.

Mingjue’s large body leaned in close, nuzzling his neck as a dog would. As his mouth began to tease the skin of Ruien’s neck with kisses and soft bites, Ruien just barely held back a moan. Even though Mingjue was surprisingly accepting toward doing these things with him recently, he was still nervous about turning him off with the sound of his masculine voice. They had also not had penetrative sex yet, as Ruien worried that might be one hurdle too high for Nie Mingjue.

But it became even harder to hold back his voice as Mingjue quickly undressed him and continued his kissing down Ruien’s bare chest. It was an extraordinary feeling as Mingjue’s huge arms would occasionally wrap around his torso and easily lift his whole body weight without effort. Ruien couldn’t help impatiently shifting his hips, trying to avoid excess stimulation from rubbing against Mingjue’s powerful body.

At one point, Mingjue stopped to look down at Ruien’s chest admiringly. He spread his large fingers across Ruien’s skin and drew his hand slowly down. “…you said you’re a cut-sleeve when it comes to me,” Mingjue murmured distractedly. “Does that mean other than me you like girls?”

Ruien raised an eyebrow at him. It would be more accurate to say he was Mingjue-sexual: after now knowing what Mingjue’s touch felt like, he doubted he could become fully aroused for anyone else. But at the risk of pressuring him with too much devotion, he kept this to himself. 

“A person’s gender doesn’t really concern me,” he answered, being purposefully vague.

Mingjue gauged his expression for a moment, not seeming entirely convinced. “What is it you like about me then?”

This question was unwieldy and difficult to answer for Ruien. He thought for a time before shaking his head helplessly. “It’s been so long since I started, it’s hard to remember.”

“Nh,” Mingjue grunted, still seeming dubious but unable to articulate his feelings properly. He continued undressing Ruien, sliding his hands across each new area of bare flesh as it was revealed. “I heard you’re keeping a dog,” he said abruptly.

Ruien hoped that with his hands so low on his body, Mingjue couldn’t feel the sudden increase in his heartrate. “Mm-hmm. I found it half-dead on a rainy night. I’m just a soft touch about these things.”

Mingjue hesitated, and if Ruien didn’t know any better, he could swear he looked somewhat hurt. “And…you didn’t tell me because you were afraid I’d throw you out, along with your pup?”

This question was somewhat alarming for several reasons. It almost sounded as if Mingjue were perfectly aware that this was no dog they were discussing. But if so, realizing he could be subtle was quite a shock already. Why wasn’t he angry? He must not realize it was Jin Guangyao specifically, or Ruien suspected he would be sliced clean in half by Baxia by now. Given that being thrown out was already a light punishment for secretly keeping a human being, he didn’t know how to answer.

Mingjue’s eyes met his for a moment, but again Ruien was shocked that he didn’t see anger there. It was more like loneliness. Mingjue sighed. “Just don’t let it affect your work. And don’t come to me smelling like dog.”

And then Ruien became unable to attempt a reply even if he wanted to, as Mingjue ducked down and slid Ruien’s cock inside his mouth. A tiny sound escaped him as shock and pleasure vaulted through his body, and he quickly raised both hands to cover his own mouth. He could feel Mingjue’s harsh, bear-like breath against his thighs. His mouth was so warm. In seconds, Ruien began to fear he couldn’t hold back. 

Fortunately Mingjue soon drew away, though he gave one last tantalizing lick with his large tongue, that one motion nearly robbing Ruien of sanity. He threw off his own clothes and this time crawled up to straddle Ruien’s shoulders. In this position, he hardly needed to say what he wanted. 

Ruien grasped his powerful thighs and brought his huge, throbbing cock into his mouth. As soon as he did, Mingjue shifted his hips forward, slowly moving on his own in and out of Ruien’s mouth, each time bumping softly against the tight ring of Ruien’s throat and sending shivers down Ruien’s spine. He longed to let him in deeper, but was worried he couldn’t handle the thickness. But even the sensation of having his airway repeatedly blocked was making Ruien impatient to cum, and he shifted his hips unconsciously in time with Mingjue’s.

He thought Mingjue would want to cum in his mouth, but after a few moments, he slowly drew out again. He shifted back down the bed, and wrapped his legs around Ruien’s to pull them tight together. He angled his cock down into the gap between Ruien’s legs, slid deep between them and lowered his body comfortably down on top of him. 

Ruien let out a shaking gasp as pleasant sensations flooded through him. Next to actual sex, he could not imagine a better feeling than this. He was trapped in Mingjue’s strength, his leg muscles rippling against his skin. His hot, moist cock was rubbing against several sensitive areas between his legs. His own cock was already feeling wonderful just from the excitement, but was receiving constant stimulation from Mingjue’s hard stomach rubbing against it. And everywhere he could see and feel, and even smell and taste, Mingjue’s huge and powerful chest, and his brutal and handsome face. 

After only a few thrusts of Mingjue’s hips in this position, Ruien couldn’t hold back a strangled noise of pleasure. To control himself, as his arms were wrapped around Mingjue and could not cover his mouth, he bit down into Mingjue’s shoulder.

The large man let out a grunt which sounded like pleasure. The pace of his hips increased. One hand came to rest on top of Ruien’s head and tilted his head back, so Mingjue could observe the pleasure on his face. Ruien repeatedly opened and closed his mouth, trying to make it obvious that he wanted to kiss, in order to make one last attempt to muffle his voice. Mingjue let out an impassioned breath and sank down over him, sliding his tongue deeply inside Ruien’s mouth. 

“Mmmh!” Ruien cried out helplessly, feeling like it would be impossible for them to be connected any deeper than this. He came almost as soon as Mingjue’s tongue entered his mouth.

Feeling Ruien’s cock twitch and spurt his cum between their bodies, Mingjue grunted softly again. He quickly pulled his cock from between Ruien’s legs and stroked himself over Ruien’s stomach, laying a stream of cum beside Ruien’s there. 

As they both panted to recover their breath, Mingjue slid down and seemed to want to go immediately to sleep, one arm and leg each draped over Ruien’s body. “Stay here tonight,” he muttered against his sheets.

In answer, Ruien merely shifted his body a little closer, closing his eyes and laying his head close beside Mingjue’s.

…

The next day, he prepared breakfast for Meng Yao but left it for him while he was still asleep, setting off before sunrise. As the situation was extremely delicate, Ruien had no choice but to approach Zewu-jun directly, and hope he was willing to give him an audience. 

As he had come unannounced, he had to wait for hours at the gate to the Cloud Recesses. At the changing of the guard shifts, the previous guard brought his request to Zewu-jun, and not long after he was given permission to enter. Another disciple guided him as far as Lan Xichen’s study, allowing him to go in on his own.

The ethereally beautiful man, though it must be said Ruien found him quite pale and thin compared to the last time he had seen him, greeted him with a warm expression and invited him to sit for tea. Overwhelmed at this courteousness, Ruien could not even bring himself to sit down at the table with the beautiful gentleman and instead claimed he should not tarry here. 

“Zewu-jun…may I ask that you cast a silencing spell around this chamber?” he asked in barely above a whisper.

Though at first he seemed reasonably suspicious, a hint of hope arose in Lan Xichen’s eyes. He nodded a little numbly and took in a breath, gathering spiritual energy. He drew a seal in the air and sent out his spiritual energy to create a wall of silence around his chamber. Ruien nodded his thanks and knelt beside him, feeling the need to speak softly even so.

“I will be brief. If I had information on Meng Yao…what would you do, Zewu-jun?”

Xichen’s eyes fluttered and his breath stopped. When it returned, it came in short bursts. Suddenly he grasped Ruien’s arm. “Have you found him? He’s alive?”

Ruien nodded. Xichen slumped forward, holding his head. He let out a heavy breath of relief, as if he had been holding it in for all the weeks that Meng Yao had been missing. Ruien again felt deep pity for him and wished he could change something about Meng Yao’s self-hatred that currently kept the two of them apart.

“He is currently in hiding, but his situation is precarious and cannot continue. Zewu-jun, this is a lot to ask, but considering how much you favored him when he was still Jin Guangyao-“

“Of course,” Lan Xichen interrupted him with hope in his eyes. “Of course I will protect him. You need hardly ask. Can he be brought here?”

“Not easily. He is inside the Unclean Realm.”

“Oh,” Xichen said with quite reasonable disappointment and anxiety.

“There is…another problem. Though he admits he has nowhere to go, he claims he does not wish to come here.”

Xichen’s eyes dimmed yet further, and then slowly closed. He was silent for a long time, not seeming to know how to solve that problem. Of course this very modesty of his was one of his attractive points, but Ruien was getting quite fed up with this couple’s inability to be honest with one another.

“…so you may have to kidnap him,” Ruien added with a slightly playful air.

Xichen’s eyes went wide in scandal. “K-…kidnap?!”

Ruien shrugged. “Cajole. Coerce. Or wrap him up in a reed mat and throw him over your shoulder, whatever seems appropriate to you.”

“I couldn’t…! If it goes against his wishes, I…”

“He won’t save himself,” Ruien said firmly. “So unless you can think of a way to convince him, if you want him alive and well in this world, I suggest you be willing to use a little force.” He levied himself up to his feet. “I will leave for today. Before I do, please tell me when is the soonest you can come to see him, if not outright drag him back here with you.”

Xichen’s eyes traveled across the floor in front of him in deep thought. Finally, he looked up at Ruien with hope in his eyes again. “The next new moon?” he proposed softly.

Ruien nodded. “I’ll be waiting.” He bowed and left the elegant gentleman in a shell-shocked state as he hurried back to Qinghe. For some reason, he felt eager to see Mingjue’s face as soon as possible.


	11. A Flash of White in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nie Mingjue discovers Kang Ruien's deception, but in the process misunderstands one important detail.

Though it did seem Ruien had spent the night in his bed, he was gone before Mingjue woke the next morning. Mingjue sat up on his own, the silence of the morning feeling unusually oppressive. The more he came to rely on Ruien, in truth, the more he feared him. He feared making the same mistake twice.

He would not go to Ruien’s chamber. He swore to himself he would not, but every time he had to hold back the urge, he grew angrier. He knew one thing about that man, and that was that he was obedient; he would not take in a dog without asking. This very fact made his lying about whatever he was hiding all the more painful and infuriating. 

He called for his Captain of the Guard. “You are to tell him nothing,” he told the captain in an undertone. “But you will alert me, and only me, if you observe any suspicious behavior in Kang Ruien.”

This captain, though clearly jealous of Ruien’s status, still seemed reluctant to be spying on his superior. “…yes, Clan Leader,” he said softly.

When Ruien returned from Guangling, he did not volunteer any details of the journey. Not that being terse or taciturn was unusual for him, but normally he would at least give a perfunctory report. While Mingjue was reviewing financial records and Ruien double-checking his work, he asked him directly.

“Did your friend appreciate the effort you went to?” Mingjue grumbled, directing his question at the document he was writing.

Ruien nodded, also appearing to be discussing things with the paper he was holding. “I believe so.”

“Chang Lu, was it?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“What was his illness?”

Ruien glanced up, obviously already catching on to the suspiciousness in Mingjue’s tone. “…malaria. Is something wrong, Clan Leader?”

Mingjue didn’t answer and merely continued sullenly filling out his records. That evening, Ruien once again disappeared as soon as their daily duties were complete, and he was seen preparing extra food in the kitchens. Notably, not low-quality meat and grain as one would feed a dog. Rather, the same things he himself would eat, but enough for two. And Mingjue’s anger continued to build.

In Ruien’s absence, Mingjue wrote and dispatched a letter to Guangling, inquiring about the health of a certain Chang Lu. The next day, a letter returned, glowing with gratitude about Clan Leader Nie’s concern, describing a peaceful, pastoral existence and mentioning nothing of malaria. Mingjue’s fingers curled around the parchment and almost rendered it to pulp. Though intellectually he was aware that it was normal not to burden a superior with minor personal troubles, especially if his illness was cured by Ruien’s help, it was just another point of distrust.

Out of fear of his own anger, Mingjue avoided Ruien for a few days after that. And without Ruien’s intervention, his yang energy continued to grow harder to control. And then, on the night of the new moon, his captain of the guard told him Ruien had been accompanying a cloaked figure to and from his own room, and that they were currently still talking just outside the gates of the Unclean Realm. Anger rumbling in the pit of his stomach, Mingjue grasped Baxia and went out onto the ramparts.

Though it was dark, Mingjue could clearly see Ruien’s naturally light brown hair below. And though almost completely hidden by a black cloak, he could just make out another figure before him. Ruien’s hand reached out and grasped the figure’s arm in an incredibly intimate gesture. Mingjue’s jaw tightened until his teeth creaked inside his head. 

Though he still couldn’t identify the other person clearly, there was something familiar about them. When they looked up and seemed to shake their head in frustration, he caught the flash of a white forehead ribbon. Suddenly, from his height and build, Mingjue could not mistake the identity of the cloaked figure as anyone but who he was. He felt so much anger and pain filling up his chest that he found it difficult to breathe. Baxia rattled impatiently inside its scabbard.

In moments, the figure was gone, disappearing into the night. Mingjue watched Ruien turn to enter the Unclean Realm again as if nothing had happened. He sank down against the ramparts, for one of the first times in his life unsure of how to handle the situation. He grasped Baxia and pressed the hilt to his forehead, seeking some clarity.

While he had been assuming his relationship with Kang Ruien was one of normal intimacy between lovers, part of him was aware that Ruien kept things from him. At first he thought this was his usual respect and deference toward his clan leader, not wishing to burden him with anything unnecessary. But the very reason he had chosen to replace Meng Yao with Kang Ruien was his intelligence; a mind that Nie Mingjue did not have, and therefore relied upon. What if he had once again put all his faith into someone who was only using him?

And more than that, someone who had once again chosen Lan Xichen over him. He couldn’t blame him. No one could look at Lan Xichen and not be dazzled by him. He was shining with talent of every kind, from music to cultivation. He was powerful, rich, universally respected, and on top of everything else, he was kind. There was no quality of his in which Nie Mingjue did not feel inferior.

But when had this started? Albeit Mingjue had only heard about Ruien sneaking food in the past couple of weeks, had they been meeting somehow before that? Or was it only Ruien’s one-sided love until recently? Yes… Mingjue suddenly realized. Perhaps that was exactly it. Ruien’s food-sneaking started several weeks after Meng Yao’s disappearance. Xichen must be lonely. He must have been seeking out another pity case to occupy that meddlesome personality of his. And as Mingjue himself had thought before, a half-foreign orphan of war wasn’t too far off from an abused son of a prostitute.

They had never talked of love, Mingjue reminded himself. Ruien only talked about “liking” or “admiring” Mingjue. Those were all things that might be expected of a myrmidon devoted to his clan leader. This had all started with Ruien’s suggestion of an unusual treatment for Mingjue’s rage. It had never been anything more than that, not even once, he thought. 

Well. Then again, Mingjue had never expected anyone’s sincere feelings for him. He had been happy to think that was what he had from Ruien, but he should have known that was never really possible. He thought of all the times he had hurt and pushed away Ruien and others in moments of rage. Much though he had felt justified each time, he also knew that no sane person would ever feel affection for that. 

If Ruien wanted to find happiness, it was not Mingjue’s place to get in the way. It really had nothing to do with him. But he could never forgive Ruien hiding it from him. Even if there had never been anything intimate between them, he could not have a subordinate who operated secretly behind his back. There was only one way to deal with this situation which wouldn’t also hurt his apparent lover, Lan Xichen. 

Mingjue did not sleep that night. In the early morning, he sent out an invitation to Gusu, inviting Lan Xichen over on the pretense of needing some soothing music. He knew Xichen would respond immediately to that, even if he were tired from going back and forth secretly from Gusu to Qinghe.

Sure enough, Lan Xichen appeared alone in the mid-morning, seemingly haven ridden his sword there directly upon receiving the message. Mingjue called Ruien to them as soon as Xichen joined him in his study. Xichen did look at Mingjue a little oddly when he said nothing to greet him, but seemed to assume he was feeling unwell and simply took a seat at his side, producing Liebing from his sleeve and preparing to play.

“I want you to take my deputy away to Gusu,” Mingjue said, halting Xichen’s actions abruptly.

Both men stared in wonder at what Mingjue had just said. Ruien glanced worriedly between Xichen and Mingjue but obediently said nothing. 

“You want me to take Master Kang?” Xichen clarified softly. “…whatever for?”

“He can’t do his job. I don’t need him anymore. So you take him.”

Ruien sucked in a shocked breath. He looked pale and seemed to be struggling to keep his feet under him, his gaze wandering vaguely beneath him as he failed to comprehend the words he had just heard.

“Da-ge…” Xichen murmured with reproach in his voice. “No matter what Master Kang has done, surely this is too drastic.”

Mingjue shook his head slowly. “Oh, I don’t care who he fucks,” he said, purposefully loudly, humiliating both the men in front of him. “But I can’t have a subordinate who hides things from me. If he’s so desperate to be with you, then take him. I don’t want him.”

In the tense silence that followed, Xichen got to his feet. “Da-ge…if you mean last night, that wasn’t-“

“Zewu-jun,” Ruien interrupted him softly. Even so, he quickly grew silent again, his eyes heavy on the ground. His jaw shifted as his mind seemed to be running through all the possibilities about how to resolve this situation. Finally his lips pressed together in determination. 

“The reason doesn’t matter. The fact that I kept something a secret from you, that is my crime, is that right, Clan Leader?” Ruien asked tonelessly.

Mingjue didn’t even glance at him, letting the silence hang in the air between them.

Ruien took this in for a few long moments, and eventually nodded. “Then…I’ll gather my things.”

“Ruien!” Xichen said in distress as Ruien turned and left, though by referring to him so casually, only inadvertently increased Mingjue’s anger. “Da-ge, he…I promise you, he has done nothing wrong!”

Mingjue scoffed, watching Ruien’s back as he walked down the stairs toward his own chamber. “I really couldn’t care less if he was good or bad at it.”

Xichen recoiled with a deep flush over his cheeks. He shook his head, trying to quell his own anger. “You are jumping to conclusions,” he muttered.

“Are you still here, Xichen?” he asked, getting to his feet and pulling out a ledger to start his morning duties. “Your new disciple could probably use some help packing.”

…

Ruien’s hands were shaking and he felt he could barely see as he loaded his personal belongings onto a rickshaw. It was surprisingly painful even to do only this, tearing up his roots for the first time since he had started his life here in the Unclean Realm. 

“Master Kang…” came the sorrowful voice of Lan Xichen, approaching from behind him. “This is temporary anger. Da-ge is being unreasonable. There is no reason for you to go this far.”

“It is not unreasonable,” Ruien murmured, loading a second trunk of his clothes onto the rickshaw and securing it. “I knew he would not forgive me if he found out. I was prepared.”

“…but…you did this for us…”

Ruien shook his head. “Please don’t concern yourself with that, Zewu-jun. I did this by choice.” As he secured the last of his things, he said, “We should leave now in order to reach Gusu before nightfall.”

Xichen still seemed stunned and hardly comprehending. “…you are of course welcome in the Cloud Recesses, Ruien, but…there must be another way. Together I’m sure we can explain it to him.”

Ruien only shook his head once again. He wasn’t sure why Xichen would even say that, as he should know just as well as Ruien did that Nie Mingjue did not change his mind. He picked up the end of the cart and began to pull it along.

“Wait!” In an undertone that was barely audible, Xichen asked him, “What about A-Yao? What will he do if you leave?”

“I’ve taken care of it.”

Not leaving any room to argue in his tone, Ruien pulled along his cart and guided an uncertain Xichen from the Unclean Realm. As he passed through the gates, Ruien felt visceral pain shudder through his body as he wondered if this would be his last time seeing these gates from the inside. 

…

When they arrived in the Cloud Recesses that night, Xichen personally guided Ruien to a room that he could use, staying close out of obvious worry. 

As Ruien started to unpack by bringing one of the large trunks inside, Xichen shook his head with a sigh of exasperation. “I know his heart is unyielding and true, and this is one of his best qualities. But sometimes Da-ge…” he trailed off in frustration and Ruien did not bother to attempt to finish his thought for him.

Instead, Ruien merely flipped open the heavy trunks to reveal the contents. In doing so, he struck Lan Xichen completely still and silent.

Inside the trunk, a frail figure groaned and held the back of his head. “I feel sick,” Meng Yao complained irritably, looking it as well.

“A-…y…” Xichen’s breath stopped before he could even say his name.

“You woke up?” Ruien observed, picking up the discarded talisman that, hours ago, he had stuck to Meng Yao’s forehead in order to get him peacefully into the trunk in the first place.

“About half an hour ago, thank you,” Meng Yao grumbled. “And thought perhaps Da-ge had finally cast me into hell in my sleep. At the very least, you could have explained the situation before knocking me out with a talisman and stuffing me in a suitcase.”

“A-Yao…” Xichen finally found his voice.

The other two grew still at the soft plaintiveness of his gentle voice. Meng Yao stared resolutely at the inside of the trunk, making no move to get out of it, though in fairness he may still have been too weak to do so on his own. 

“It’s cold…” Meng Yao murmured, his eyes still cast down. “And this air smells of water and evergreens. So we must be in Gusu.”

Ruien nodded. “Yes.”

Meng Yao’s jaw tightened. His hands curled around Ruien’s borrowed robes on his knees. “I didn’t agree to this. I will leave as soon as I have the strength to do so on my own. And I won’t forget this indign-”

At that moment, he lost his words as huge arms gathered him up from the trunk and wrapped him tightly in a warm and trembling embrace. With his face resting in the hollow of Meng Yao’s neck, Xichen’s shoulders shook with soft sobs. 

“A-Yao…” he said only. “A-Yao…!”

As Ruien watched, the surprise on Meng Yao’s face gradually melted away into barely concealed torment against Xichen’s shoulder. And then he seemed to forget Ruien was there, his eyes growing red and moist. His trembling hands rose slowly, apparently with the purpose of pushing Xichen away. But instead they only curled into his robes, unable to either push him back or return his embrace.

“Er-ge…a clan leader shouldn’t be this sentimental…” he murmured, his voice cracking slightly.

Xichen seemed to pretend he couldn’t hear him, shifting his embrace and squeezing Meng Yao’s tiny form against his own, even stroking his hair. Realizing he could neither break free nor purely accept Xichen’s obvious shows of affection, Meng Yao’s eyes tightly closed and he also let out a soft sob. The two seemed lost in their own world for many heavy moments, and Ruien decided he probably shouldn’t stay. He turned to leave.

“Ruien,” said Xichen in a broken voice, reluctantly parting just a little from Meng Yao but keeping him within the circle of his arms. “Please stay. At least until I can thank you properly.”

With a small sniff, and his eyes lowered toward Xichen’s chest, Meng Yao added softly, “I would like to do that as well.”

Though it not only felt intrusive but also deeply painful to be around this happy couple, Ruien realized it was quite dangerous to descend the mountain at night, and he was exhausted. He nodded vaguely.


	12. Fresh Snowfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meng Yao attempts a new strategy to save Lan Xichen, but discovers that, up until now, he has been going about it in the worst way possible.

The few ambient sounds within the Cloud Recesses, moving water and the occasional insect, were inherently peaceful. The evergreens which surrounded the complex always smelled pleasant, and at this time of year there was also the damp scent of leaves of the end of autumn. Within the complex itself, the contrast of white gravel and black varnished buildings seemed to give everything a soft glow.

It would be a lie to say that Meng Yao had not dreamed of a life here, ever since he had first set eyes on Lan Xichen. It had seemed impossible for many reasons. Yet here he was. And what’s more, Lan Xichen seemed opposed to leaving his side even for a moment.

Meng Yao cautiously sipped medicinal tea that was designed to restore his qi, keeping his eyes trained to the ground. “Er-ge,” he addressed his companion. “I assume you have more important duties than watching me drink tea.”

Xichen nodded. “I have given most over to Wangji for the time being.”

Meng Yao closed his eyes in mild frustration, setting down his cup. “But there is no reason to do that.”

“Then will you at least let me play for you?”

Meng Yao’s lips parted as an unfortunate memory rose in his mind, of the day he first found out he was an uncle. “Er-ge…do you regret your actions at all?” he asked with deceptive softness, though in reality he was quite hurt and angry. “If so, it is difficult to tell.”

Xichen’s eyelashes fluttered as if he had indeed forgotten what he had tried to do. With a note of torment, he lowered his gaze again. “I’m sorry. I only meant for your more recent illness.”

In truth, though Meng Yao had been here for a day and a half now, and Lan Xichen by his side during almost all that time, the two had so far done little but argue this way. Anyone casually observing would have thought, from their voices and mannerisms, that they were two deeply intimate friends sharing pleasant conversation. But for these two people, for whom the height of politeness and gentleness were the norm, even the mildest harsh word constituted a serious argument.

“A-Yao…”

“…yes?”

Without his characteristic, peaceful smile, but with eyes that shone with sincerity, Xichen said softly, “I like your voice now.”

Meng Yao took in a sharp breath and glanced at him with a look of betrayal. He had thought that Xichen finally understood and would back off, sparing his heart these torturously kind words, when now there was less hope than ever as he saw it. But if anything his devotions seemed to have become more obvious. 

While Meng Yao was still struggling to respond, Xichen gauged his expression and seemed to realize he had made a mistake. “I…forgive me…” he backtracked softly. “I only meant that I enjoy hearing your real voice. When before it was beautiful in a constructed way, it now has an artless purity, more beautiful precisely for the notes of darkness.”

“…I have been ill. No doubt my throat is still raw,” Meng Yao murmured, intentionally misunderstanding him. He picked up his tea again in hope that the steam would hide the slight redness of his cheeks. 

Xichen’s eyes slowly lowered in disappointment. But moments later he began again, “Would you let one of my more advanced disciples play for you instead? His healing skill is quite high for a junior cultivator, but even if he knew of your past affliction, he is still incapable of attempting such an advanced technique.”

Meng Yao sighed. “There is no need. I will leave soon.”

“You will stay,” Xichen said with sudden firmness. Meng Yao looked up at him in surprise; he might have imagined it, but he thought his eyes looked red. Xichen took a quick breath as he met Meng Yao’s gaze, and looked away as if embarrassed. He continued in a more measured tone, “At least until you are well. I have given the sentries orders not to allow you to pass.”

Meng Yao chuckled bitterly. “You forget, I came and went freely in and out of Wen Ruohan’s fortress. I may not have the highest cultivation, but in subterfuge, with the deepest respect, your upright and moral disciples are not my equal.”

Xichen looked down for a time in thought. He finally answered, “Wen Ruohan did not care for you.”

“Well, in that you are alike,” Meng Yao replied, unable to keep the harshness from his voice. If this was the voice Xichen said he liked, he could have plenty of it. “As I have said, Er-ge, true affection cannot include attempts to fundamentally change a person.”

“…I was wrong then. But I will take the time to show you that I do,” Xichen said with soft determination. He seemed to want to say more, but he withdrew slightly, then got to his feet and left without another word.

A few minutes later, another figure entered Meng Yao’s rooms, this one without knocking. But it was an expected entrance; for all intents and purposes, these rooms had been assigned to Kang Ruien. All but a few elder disciples were unaware of Meng Yao’s presence here. Kang Ruien was likewise experiencing difficulty leaving the Cloud Recesses without Lan Xichen’s permission, though it seemed he wanted to. 

Currently he was lightly soaked with rain and there was mud on his boots, indicating he had been doing some sort of manual labor outside. He shook himself a bit, setting aside the umbrella hat he had been wearing and gingerly removing his shoes. He wiped his hands on a handkerchief before joining Meng Yao in the sitting room. Meng Yao conscientiously poured him some hot tea, which he sat down and accepted without a word.

“What were you doing in the rain?” Meng Yao asked him casually.

The Sogdian shook his head dismissively. “A small mudslide was pressing on the foundations of one of the outer disciples’ chambers. Just helping to clear it.”

“So you’re occupying yourself doing odd jobs for them. There are worse ways to run from your problems, I suppose,” Meng Yao said with a degree of false innocence.

Ruien’s hand briefly halted on the way to bringing tea to his lips. But as usual the taciturn man said nothing and simply took another drink. 

“By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask for some time. I gather you were abating Da-ge’s yang energy by sleeping with him. Is that right?”

Ruien’s expression darkened minimally and he lowered his tea to the table. It seemed to take him a moment to consider how he should respond. Eventually all he did was raise an eyebrow at Meng Yao, who couldn’t hold back a chuckle at the obvious animosity in that look.

“Oh, I’m not judging. I might have done the same thing, if I’d thought of it sooner.”

“…you don’t feel that way about Clan Leader Nie,” Ruien murmured with dark suspicion, almost as if trying to reassure himself. 

Meng Yao tilted his head as he considered. “Not love, no. But there are few specimens of man as fine as that one. I confess, I’m curious.”

Ruien’s eyes narrowed disapprovingly. “Why do you still bother lying to me?” he asked in that unadorned way of his. “Even if there was once a benefit to you, you know I know most of your secrets anyway. And I don’t care.” In an undertone he concluded, “I know you’d never consider it. The one time he tried, you fought him so hard you broke your hand.”

Ignoring him, Meng Yao took another sip of tea without a change in his expression. 

Ruien let out a soft sigh of frustration. “So? What’s your plan then?”

“Plan? Ah. You mean once I’m healed and have to find some form of stable employment.”

“No. What’s your plan to earn back Zewu-jun’s affection?”

Meng Yao attempted a confused smile but his face felt odd. He blinked, at first not quite following. “Back? That’s…he…” He forced a small laugh, though internally he felt as if cold water were filling his stomach. “He’s only confused. He never…no, are you saying his feelings have changed?”

“If I were him, being constantly rejected by someone who can’t accept my feelings and keeps hurting me on purpose, I would be angry by now,” Ruien said with certainty. “I might even forget what I liked about them to begin with.”

“…good,” Meng Yao murmured vaguely, though suddenly he found it hard to focus his gaze. “He’ll be better off.”

“Sure. Say that without crying, and maybe I’ll believe you.”

Meng Yao aimed a sharp glare at him, partly angry because his eyes had indeed started to sting. “I am not crying.”

“Because you’re still emotionally stunted. Not because you don’t want to.”

Meng Yao set down his own tea cup and gained a bitter smile. “Well, Master Kang. You’ve been so kind to offer your unsolicited advice to me, so allow me to return the favor. Do you think the way to Da-ge’s heart is by leaving him to his own devices? You think he forgives easily?”

Ruien rolled his eyes and didn’t answer.

“Hm? You think he’ll get lonely and come looking for you? Those are long odds. He’s mad enough at Er-ge for thinking he stole you. He won’t be coming here.”

Ruien closed his eyes with a harsh sigh, pushing himself up to his feet. “I’ll get a bath started.”

Meng Yao made an innocent face and sipped his tea.

…

As the autumn rains gave way to soft and even more deeply silent snow, Meng Yao began to feel that Xichen was growing less and less talkative around him. He still spent most of his time by his side, but he stopped asking to play his guqin for him. Instead he confined conversation to daily needs, or anything that Meng Yao brought up. But one day Meng Yao believed he was a little too harsh with him.

“A-Yao…I’m sorry to confine you this way. You must be lonely with only the two of us for company,” Xichen said one afternoon, his eyes somewhat distant.

“I admit I do fear the dulling of my mind from lack of stimulation. But you are very kind to give me all the books I could ever require,” Meng Yao replied politely. 

“…you must miss your family. And…friends,” Xichen murmured. 

Meng Yao glanced at him, feeling something amiss about the slight pause before the last word. He glanced skyward in genuine thought. “Hm. Do I have any of those?”

“…is that…Xue Yang not your friend?”

Meng Yao’s stomach twisted uncomfortably, realizing what might be the cause for Xichen’s sudden awkwardness with him. He did not underestimate the power of the Lan’s deep forms of meditation, some of which were capable of drawing back memories that were once lost. But if Xichen had remembered that night…he had to get out. There was no other way.

Meng Yao’s mind scrambled for a way to hurt Xichen badly enough to finally disillusion him completely. Being with him for these past few days, even arguing as they were, had been far too pleasant and Meng Yao could feel his resistance weakening every day. He had to do something, now.

“I don’t think ‘friend’ would be the right word for that,” he said, adopting a flippant tone. “Our association had mutual advantages.”

“Do you mean…intimate things?” Xichen asked with barely any volume.

Though that was exactly the line of thinking that Meng Yao was aiming for in his remark, it still hurt to see the heartbreak already subtly showing on Xichen’s face. Nevertheless, he nodded. “Not just that, but yes. I’m surprised Er-ge even knows of these things.”

Xichen frowned softly at the floor in front of him for some time. Even troubled like this, Meng Yao could not help admiring his glimmering beauty, only wishing he were someone else, who could appreciate the sight without guilt. 

And then came words that almost gave Meng Yao a heart attack. Xichen’s pale pink lips parted, and he spoke as softly as a slow-moving mountain stream. “If…if you have…that kind of need…I can provide that too.” In an incredibly gentle gesture of intimacy, he moved his head only slightly closer so that he could speak even more softly, “You need only ask. I will not judge or spurn you.”

A vibrant ray of emotions shuddered throughout Meng Yao’s body. Almost simultaneously, joy at the thought of Xichen’s touch and shattering guilt at what such a selfish indulgence would cost his soul. And then even more strongly, subtle but growing anger and pain at exactly what Xichen was offering. 

There was no doubt, even if he were not already confident about this fact long before now, that Xichen was a virgin. In all likelihood, he had never even kissed anyone before Meng Yao. He was offering his purity. In exchange for nothing. He wasn’t asking Meng Yao to give him anything in return, not even the appearance of affection. Perhaps this was a bribe to get him to stay, but even so, what for? How far had this poor innocent sunk already into this fruitless attachment? 

It had to stop. Now.

Carefully holding back the tears which threatened to rise in his eyes, Meng Yao took a deep breath. By the end of it, he was Jin Guangyao again. 

He let out a soft chuckle, smiling with a look of pity. “Very kind, Er-ge, but…forgive me. You must be joking.” As Xichen looked up at him with a pitiful expression of pain, he only jammed the knife in deeper. “You couldn’t think I would be satisfied with a virgin…?”

The pain in Xichen’s expression actually lifted briefly as his face was entirely frozen in shock. He didn’t even seem to be breathing for a moment. When he eventually moved, it was only to turn slowly away, and once there to remain staring blankly at the ground for several long seconds. 

“Forgive me,” he whispered breathlessly, and then got to his feet.

The eternally graceful man wobbled once on his way from Meng Yao’s sitting room to his door, but then was gone in a flash. Meng Yao watched after him for a few moments to make sure he was not coming back. 

He turned down to look at his own feet on the floor. As he absently pushed his toes together, he considered the vile hatred he held for every inch of himself, until his vision grew blurry. He curled into a ball and beat his fists against his legs with all the meager strength he had in him.

He stayed like this until the sky outside began to darken. Ruien must have found something engaging to occupy himself, as he was still not back yet. To clear his head and test his strength for when he would inevitably have to run from this place soon, Meng Yao put on a warm cloak and went to wander the complex.

From the way the disciples that he passed greeted him, some even as ‘Lianfang-zun’ still, it would seem that his presence here was no longer a secret. Which meant that now he was under the protection of the Lan. In other words, if someone wanted to kill him, it would make trouble for them. Even more so now, he would have to leave sooner rather than later. 

As he wandered, his feet carried him unconsciously toward the Cold Chamber. He paused as he viewed it, just over a small ridge of trees from the walkway where he was. It would be so much harder to say goodbye to him this time than it had ever been before, he thought. He mentally drew up the imagined conversation to prepare himself for that inevitable pain.

He was about to turn away, but then his ears caught a soft, sorrowful sound. It was sobbing. And beneath it, a deep and unforgiving voice attempting to provide comfort, but obviously not succeeding. Fear filled up his chest as he realized there could only be two people making these sounds. He could not hold back to urge to approach closer.

“…I can’t…I can’t do that!” 

Meng Yao’s heart instantly shattered. It was indeed Xichen’s voice sobbing. It cracked as he whimpered these words to the other person, who could only be his brother trying to comfort him. 

“Xiong-zhang…” came Lan Wangji’s voice, confirming Meng Yao’s assumption. “…it will be all right,” he said, unconvincingly.

Xichen continued to sob, a heart-wrenching sound as it was obvious he was trying but couldn’t stop. “What can I do? I can’t do that with someone else…and he will never be happy with me as I am…Wangji…the more time passes, the more I’m afraid. What if it’s really hopeless?”

Meng Yao’s head ached as his hot tears met the cold air on his face. But he couldn’t move. He was so stricken by guilt and self-hatred that he felt frozen. 

Hanguang-jun truly seemed to struggle to give his brother the slightest comfort. Likely he had already thought the same thing himself. Not to mention, Meng Yao was well aware that Lan Wangji had only known hopeless, one-sided love, and was in fact still right in the midst of it. 

“I do not know,” Wangji said eventually. “But I do not think it is hopeless. Lianfang-zun’s word is not credible. This may be another deception.”

Meng Yao almost chuckled. Hanguang-jun was brighter than most people gave him credit for.

“But…why?” Xichen murmured, his voice still broken.

“…perhaps he is still attempting to save you.”

“Save….? From what?”

Lan Wangji let out a soft sigh. “Xiong-zhang…what exactly is the nature of your feelings for Jin Guangyao?”

Meng Yao suddenly felt deeply uncomfortable and wondered if he should leave. He was not meant to hear this. And yet…it was hard to protect Xichen without knowing the exact answer. Even now he only seemed upset, he didn’t seem utterly heartbroken. Perhaps if he knew more he could think of a more effective strategy.

“…the nature?” Xichen repeated, seeming confused.

“I mean…is it such that you feel…everything a man can feel?”

Meng Yao blinked in shock. In the first place, he would not have thought Lan Xichen’s younger and even more monkish brother capable of discussing this topic. In the second place, did he even want to hear the answer? Wasn’t it just as bad either way?

Xichen sniffed, his sobbing finally subsiding. He said nothing. 

Moments later, Wangji let out another soft sigh. “You are certain?”

Meng Yao’s breath hitched. Had Xichen agreed?

As if in answer to this question, Xichen finally found his voice again and murmured, “Yes.”

What was this feeling? Suddenly Meng Yao felt giddy; he could barely feel his feet under him. Hearing that Lan Xichen loved him was one thing. He admired everything about him to such an extreme degree that he even believed Xichen was capable of bestowing affection on the lowest of lifeforms, including himself. But to think he desired him sexually… 

After all, what Nie Mingjue had said that night was true. The Lan were notoriously romantic, but also perhaps even more notoriously single-minded. What they felt for the one person that they chose was deep and all-encompassing. It was, as Lan Wangji said, everything a person could feel. But as much as the members of this sect were always courteous and polite with everyone, they could not force themselves to be attracted to more than one person, in all their lives. And Lan Xichen felt that…for Meng Yao.

“In that case…perhaps you can consult some books in the Forbidden Library for reference.”

Meng Yao could not take anymore and had to quickly run back to his room. This time not from being moved or upset, but out of fear that he would burst out laughing at the sound of the stoic and pure Lan Wangji suggesting to his even more pure and innocent elder brother that he read some dirty books ‘for reference.’

By the time he returned to his rooms, his amusement had faded. In its place was the weight of responsibility. Truly, everything he tried to push Lan Xichen away seemed only to hurt him, and did nothing to decrease his attentions. With this thought, something occurred to Meng Yao. Perhaps if pulling away did not work, it was time to try pushing.

Though it made him sick with guilt and worry to even contemplate, if he gave in to Xichen’s desires – or at least appeared to – the pain in Xichen’s heart might be eased. And soon enough, the glow of happiness from a new relationship would fade. He would realize what living with Meng Yao was really like. And surely then, once he found out who he truly was, he would give up. Meng Yao would make it very easy for him, feigning a similar loss of interest. They would part amicably. Could this work? It seemed very risky. But nothing else he tried seemed to do anything at all. He had already tried disappearing, and the result was Xichen hugging him with all his strength once found. 

He waited for a time inside his room before venturing out again, returning to the spot he had been looking from earlier. Luckily, he spotted Lan Wangji leaving his brother’s rooms a few minutes later. His heart pounded. His feet were frozen for a moment, his nerve deserting him. He had never tried to share even partially truthful feelings of affection with someone before. He found it more terrifying than any unscrupulous deed he had ever done for those tyrannical men he supported.

He swallowed and approached the door to the Cold Chamber. With a shivering hand, though not from the cold, he knocked lightly twice.

From inside the room, a difficult breath, as if Xichen’s airway were still impeded from having been crying. “Yes? Come in,” he said in short succession, apparently assuming it was a disciple who needed his help. 

Despite being quite certain he would have reacted differently if he had known who was at his door, Meng Yao took a deep breath and reluctantly opened the door, quickly closing it behind him to keep out the cold. From this entryway, Xichen still could not see him. He decided to make sure he was permitted here.

“Er-ge…forgive me for intruding.”

A quick breath. Xichen got to his feet and appeared in the doorway between the two rooms, looking at Meng Yao with a difficult expression. “A-…” he began, but then the hope in his expression seemed to fade. No doubt his mind was still full of their last interaction. 

With a stab of pain in his chest at the thought that he had caused this graceful creature to make such a hurt expression, Meng Yao tried again, “I don’t mean to disturb you. If I’m not welcome, I’ll-“

“Stay,” Xichen said quickly. After a moment’s silence, he said more softly, “Of course, you’re welcome. Will you sit?”

Meng Yao nodded and followed him into the sitting room, taking a seat as Xichen indicated. Xichen sat rather stiffly for a few moments across from him. Eventually he seemed to come back to himself and poured them each a cup of tea. Meng Yao gratefully accepted the warm cup to have something to occupy his still slightly shaking hands.

But now having made the bold decision to come here, he found himself quite lost for how to begin. He noticed Xichen glancing worriedly at him, clearly wondering why he was here. He realized it must start with an apology and at least a partial explanation for his earlier behavior. 

“Er-ge…about earlier…I must apologize. My words were unforgivable.”

Xichen at first seemed moved by this, but soon enough, sadness overtook his expression again. He numbly shook his head. “Hardly…I am ashamed I brought it up. You were right to mock me.”

Meng Yao closed his eyes to endure the pain that he had caused. “No. I was entirely at fault. And moreover…they were not even true.”

Xichen’s gaze slowly turned on him. He seemed reluctant to hope, understandable after Meng Yao’s consistent behavior toward him. “To clarify…which aspect…?”

Meng Yao swallowed, feeling heat rising to his cheeks. Albeit this was the image he intended to convey, it actually happened against his will. But rather than potentially embarrass Xichen by being precise, he simply explained, “For a long time, I have been intentionally driving you away. The reason is not important. But I have realized that something I did with the intention of protecting you has only been causing you pain.”

He calculated that he should meet Xichen’s eyes at this point to express his sincerity. But his eyes felt hot. He feared he would cry if he looked at him. His gaze somewhere in the vicinity of Xichen’s knee, he said quietly, “To be brief…I cannot go another day with you thinking that…there could be some human being on this earth who is capable of going without falling in love with Lan Xichen. And if there is…it is not Meng Yao.”

A long silence followed. Meng Yao was too afraid to look up and gauge Xichen’s expression. But after a moment, he heard a shaking breath. Xichen reached out and grasped Meng Yao’s hand comfortingly. His heart felt tightly squeezed at this tender gesture. And then it nearly broke as the same hand reached up and softly stroked his cheek, encouraging him to finally meet Xichen’s eyes. But his brief moment of happiness instantly faded as he saw tears running down Xichen’s cheeks. And despite a soft smile, it was clear they were not happy ones.

“No…no, A-Yao. You don’t need to do this.”

Meng Yao blinked back at him, stunned and unable to speak, as he slowly understood exactly what Xichen must mean by that. And the true cost of his previous attempts to deny this person whatever small happiness he might be able to give him.

“I would never abandon you just because you can’t return my feelings,” Xichen continued, tears dripping steadily down his beautiful face. “There’s no favor to be returned or bargain to be made. You are here because I cannot bear your loss. I’m sorry.”

Meng Yao still could not speak. He could barely process what he was hearing. Not only that Xichen’s selfless devotion went even deeper than he thought, but that his attempts to protect him had only succeeded in convincing Lan Xichen that Meng Yao could never love him. What had he done? And how could he possibly fix this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post a quick thought for the person(s) commenting about Jin Guangyao: the inspiration for his character in this fic was the discussion scene in Lotus Pier following the attempted attack on the Burial Mounds. That scene, in the TV series as well but especially in the novel, reveals most clearly one of the purposes of telling Wei Wuxian's story at all, symbolized by the name of his flute, Chenqing 陈情 ("to give a full account"). Namely, that mob mentality is insufficient to cope with the nuance of portraying any individual human being, painting everyone in black and white based on personal and structural biases. Therefore, if you support Wei Wuxian (who murders and maims countless innocent people) and Nie Huaisang (who, among other things, coaxes the innocent Mo Xuanyu into suicide), but have a problem with Jin Guangyao (who kills only for self-protection), then I'm afraid your role in the story would be that of Clan Leader Yao. :)


	13. Glimmering Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meng Yao seeks out Kang Ruien's advice in how to convince Lan Xichen that his feelings are real.

“No, I…I’m not pretending…” Meng Yao whispered almost soundlessly.

Lan Xichen’s smile, though still stained with tears, became even more gentle than usual, as if he hadn’t heard. Or didn’t want to. “If you need a favor, you need only ask for it. And if you feel indebted, what I would like most is if you were to simply care for yourself and do whatever makes you happy. That will satisfy any debt you have ever had to me.”

And for the remainder of that evening at least, Meng Yao was struck almost entirely silent. Someone had finally managed to outdo his pride and joy, his own mind. Of course it was Lan Xichen. 

He didn’t remember how they ended the conversation, but remembered Xichen kindly directing him back to his own rooms. When he returned, Kang Ruien was there. He observed Meng Yao’s warm cloak and stunned expression, looking him up and down with a dubious glance. For a great length, neither moved or spoke.

“Ruien,” Meng Yao murmured eventually.

“Mm?”

Meng Yao slipped off his snow-soaked shoes and dropped his cloak on the floor as he walked straight across to where Ruien was sitting and sat down listlessly in front of him. Eyes cast down without direction, he muttered, “I give up. I need help.”

Ruien did not react at first, merely taking this in expressionlessly. He tilted his head thoughtfully. “I don’t know. I’ve been warned about giving unsolicited advice…”

“It’s not a joke,” Meng Yao snapped with a harshness he almost never permitted himself. He immediately felt disappointed in himself and buried his face in his cold-stung fingers. “Everything I try only seems to make things worse. Now he won’t even believe I could love him.”

“You told him?” Ruien asked in surprise.

Meng Yao shook his head in defeat. “I tried.”

“…but you meant to. You…were going to give in to his desire to be with you?”

Meng Yao didn’t answer. Though he wanted to correct him that technically it was still a plot to distance Lan Xichen from himself, as soon as that plan fell apart, a deep despair took Meng Yao’s heart. It was one thing when Xichen was dreamy-eyed and romanticizing him simply out of ignorance or innocence. It was quite another to be so well understood, and yet to have any possibility of true connection eternally severed.

Suddenly, he was surprised when Ruien clapped a hand on his shoulder. The stoic Sogdian managed an almost-smile. “Good for you.”

Meng Yao grimaced and pushed his hand away. “You’re enjoying this,” he said in a soft but dangerous tone.

Though still seeming to be concealing some amusement, Ruien shook his head. “So. What is it you want exactly? For him to love you again?”

Meng Yao’s stomach lurched at hearing these words out loud. Even though he had spent all this time trying to convince Xichen that what he felt wasn’t love, on some level he himself must have believed those gently whispered words. And now he was beginning to fear that even if Xichen still did love him, he couldn’t entrust his heart to him fully, ever again. 

“…no,” he murmured, his eyes stinging. 

“A relationship?”

Meng Yao closed his eyes, but despite his efforts to keep control, a tear slipped down his cheek. “I don’t want anything from him,” he murmured softly, as if trying to convince himself. “I just…I just want him to know that I love him.”

Those words, which seemed always at the back of Meng Yao’s mind, had been so long forbidden. He knew nothing good would come from speaking them, even thinking hem. But perhaps because he had already tried to confess earlier that day, he was able to voice them. And once he did, they seemed like nothing at all. There was none of the weight or guilt that he had feared. It was a fact. And in a way, almost a happy one. He loved Lan Xichen. He was in love with the most perfect being in the universe. How could that be a bad thing?

Even though he was still in tears, he found himself softly smiling at the table beneath his hands, simply thinking of how pleasant it felt just to be in the vicinity of the one he loved. And then he thought how Xichen must be feeling now. And his despair returned with an ill sensation in his stomach.

“It obviously hurts him, thinking that I don’t care for him. I just want that pain to begone. And if I can give him some happiness…any happiness…I want to do it.”

“Even if it’s exactly that relationship that you’re so afraid of?” Ruien asked with a raise of his brow. 

Meng Yao let out a small scoff, feeling that that particular reality was further away than ever. But moments later, his fear of Xichen being permanently unhappy rose up again. He slowly nodded. 

Ruien smirked slightly. He nodded. “All right. I’ll help.”

…

At this time of year, it was dangerous for all but Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji to use the Cold Pond. In the glow of dawn, Xichen stood as still as possible in the cold water up to his waist as he attempted to meditate, glistening snowflakes gradually piling up on his hair and bare shoulders. As the snow melted against his skin, it would briefly seem to bring warmth before the streams of moisture cooled in the winter air. He focused his mind on other things to distract from the pain of the cold.

After knowing him for so many years, despite his deceptive tendencies, Lan Xichen had thought he understood Meng Yao very well. But the more he thought about it, the harder it was to explain what happened last night. 

“If there is someone in the world who does not love you, it is not Meng Yao.”

This roundabout phrasing all on its own made Xichen doubt its contents. Not to mention the fact that he was certain Meng Yao would never admit to such a thing, even if it were true. He was perpetually guarded. He believed that he was more vulnerable to exploitation than others due to his background, so he naturally concealed personal details.

And yet…when Xichen had attempted to reassure him that any attempts at placating him were unnecessary, Meng Yao’s expression had changed. Albeit the fact that Xichen was crying might have had something to do with it. 

“No…I’m not pretending…” he had said, so softly that even Lan Xichen’s keen hearing barely caught it, his eyes wide and wholesome in a way Xichen had rarely seen them.

Xichen slowly opened his eyes, his mind trapped in this moment for some time. Such an admission was unlike him. It was clumsy. Or, if it were a deception, unnecessarily convoluted. It did nothing to convince Xichen, nor was the thread of his plot visible, as it normally was at least on some level. The more he thought about it, the more Xichen became convinced that he was missing something important.

But then he recalled what had happened earlier, leading up to that conversation. 

A mocking smile on his beloved’s demure and charming face, an expression he was very familiar with. “You couldn’t think I would be satisfied with a virgin…?”

Xichen closed his eyes tightly. He wanted to erase that memory. That phrase had tapped into an insecurity he had long held but found difficulty pinning down. 

He admired so much about Meng Yao. From society’s lowest point, with no help and no confidants, he had fought every day of his life and managed to find a place alongside the greatest cultivators in the world. His mind was a treasure; not only excelling at recall and critical thinking, but his understanding of the human psyche was, to Xichen’s awareness, unparalleled. 

He had accomplished all this despite going through more trauma and loneliness than anyone in Xichen’s acquaintance. Having also lost his mother at a young age, but having his uncle, brother and sect to rely upon at the time, it was a pain Xichen could hardly imagine. And then, after losing this person he loved, A-Yao had had to endure dehumanizing language about both her and him for being her son, every day of his life. For someone as accomplished as this, who had come from an environment so cruel that it was almost entirely foreign to Xichen, part of him had always felt he would never be worthy of Meng Yao.

For this reason, Meng Yao’s constant rejections of his feelings seemed to him painful, but understandable. The virgin comment however was particularly so, as Xichen felt it was asking him to forsake something fundamental to him in order to earn favor: his conviction toward the Lan precepts and his natural devotion to one person. He knew he could not touch another human being in that way. It was not possible. And if so, it seemed he was destined never to touch Meng Yao either. It seemed a comment intentionally designed to cause him pain.

He sighed, resolving that in the end, he would probably never know what Meng Yao’s feelings for him might be. He was too complex, his skills at deception too advanced for someone as honest as Xichen. He slowly stepped from the Cold Pond, attempting to leave his concerns behind in the cold water.

But when he returned to the main complex, he found the peaceful winter morning broken by familiar, yet perhaps more strident-than-usual shouting. Who could have upset his uncle so much so early in the morning?

When he arrived at the scene, Wangji was attempting to hold a huffing Lan Qiren back, though with his ill health and in the cold air, he was also half holding him up. 

“You…dare….!” Qiren was shouting.

Lying before him in the snow, looking as if he had been thrown there, a small bundle of fabric and black hair. The small figure wordlessly righted himself and sat up as if awaiting punishment. Xichen’s breath caught. It was A-Yao.

“My deepest apologies for upsetting you, Master Qiren. I only wish you to know that it is my intention to marry your nephew.”

It took many long seconds for each of those words to become pulled together with their appropriate meanings inside Lan Xichen’s mind. In the meantime, his uncle seemed on the verge of having a fit. 

“You…!” Qiren stammered breathlessly. “He…he is an heir to one of the Four Great Clans! He will not die childless, shackled to some nameless myrmidon!”

Despite his gathering shock at what seemed to be unfolding before him, Xichen felt a small glimmer of warmth and gratitude that his uncle had found fault only with Meng Yao’s lack of noble name, and not with his being a man or his origins.

Meng Yao also looked up at the fuming gentleman with a flicker of pleasant surprise. He restrained it in order to continue in a measured tone, “Agreed. As I have no name of any note, I have no suitable rank to be considered a primary husband. Therefore I could only be at best a concubine.”

“You…you…!” Qiren fumed, clearly beyond the point of words.

Meng Yao lifted his head and said loudly, despite the numerous disciples gathering to watch the display, “I will have it known by all that my heart belongs to Lan Xichen, and I will wed no other as long as I live!”

Xichen thought he must be dreaming. He could not imagine a reality in which this might be happening. And yet the happiness that soared inside his chest was real. He felt as if his feet barely touched the snowy ground. He softly moved forward, unconsciously moving closer to see Meng Yao’s face. 

“Xichen!” his uncle cried as he saw him. “You will take this creature away and instruct him on behavior within the Cloud Recesses, or I will throw him from the top of the mountain!”

Xichen barely glanced at his uncle. He moved cautiously closer to Meng Yao, still trying to read his expression.

Meng Yao’s head had turned when Qiren said Xichen’s name, but now he was looking straight down at the ground in front of him. Uncertainty and shame fought in his expression, his pink lips parted and reddened both by the cold air and from exertion. Xichen’s chest ached at how he seemed to look more beautiful than ever against the pure snow.

Eventually, Meng Yao addressed him softly, “If…if it disgusts you, or you cannot trust me, fine. So much the better. I only needed to make it clear to you…that there is nothing I would not endure, if it would ease your suffering for even a moment. Lan Xichen.”

The courtyard became utterly still but for the panting of Lan Qiren as all waited with baited breath to hear Xichen’s response. 

Despite himself, Xichen felt a strange urge to smile rising up inside him. He could not quite manage it, but his chest felt incredibly warm and full as he watched Meng Yao blush and bite his lip with increasing anxiety as his silence continued.

“…the Lan do not usually exchange marriage proposals this way…” Xichen said with a curious expression.

Meng Yao closed his eyes as his blush increased. “I believe you.”

Finally, a soft smile broke slowly over Xichen’s face as the coming of the dawn. “Also…I have no intention of taking a concubine.”

Meng Yao’s lips parted softly as pain flickered across his face. He closed them with determination and nodded minimally. “Very well.”

“You will have to endure being my husband.”

As Meng Yao’s eyes went wide where he sat, Lan Qiren promptly coughed up a significant amount of blood into the snow, quickly aided by Wangji into a quiet room to rest. Meng Yao whirled around on his knees to face Xichen with a look of bewilderment and wonder. Xichen’s smile broadened and he knelt before him, offering his hands.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asked sweetly.

One after another, clear, hot tears fell from Meng Yao’s eyes, though he could not seem to tear his gaze away from Xichen. With trembling hands, he accepted Xichen’s and allowed him to lift him to his feet. Once there, whether from emotion or from being out in the cold, he seemed rather uneasy on his feet, so Xichen guided him away to the Cold Chamber. 

As Xichen closed the door behind them, he smiled down joyously at Meng Yao and cupped his cheek in his hand to admire him. With a slight chuckle, he asked, “Were you trying to kill my uncle?”

“No!” Meng Yao replied quickly in horror. “…although in hindsight I didn’t consider his constitution…”

Xichen chuckled warmly and wrapped Meng Yao’s face in both hands, caressing his cheeks with his thumbs. “You made me so happy just now,” he whispered softly.

Meng Yao closed his eyes, raising his shaking hands to clasp over Xichen’s around his face. “Good. That’s all I meant to do. As long as you understand how I feel…I’ll accept any fate that’s coming for me.”

“…you truly love me?”

The smaller man sighed heavily. “I don’t know how else to tell you. If humiliating myself in front of your entire clan wasn’t enough…shall I run naked through the streets of Caiyi Town, singing your name?”

Xichen laughed out loud, such a rare occurrence for him that it startled Meng Yao. And then he did something to surprise him even more. Unable to hold back a single moment more, Xichen pulled Meng Yao close and bestowed a deep kiss against his lips.

Meng Yao’s body tensed in his arms, an adorable noise escaping him. As Xichen briefly drew away, the strength seemed to drain from Meng Yao’s body and he collapsed against him. Xichen quickly kissed him again, and this time Meng Yao’s arms slid up to encircle Xichen’s neck. He seemed hesitant to pull Xichen closer, but his small fingers curled against the hair at the back of Xichen’s neck, giving him achingly pleasant shivers down his spine.

After slightly desperate kisses gave way to sweet and hesitant ones, Xichen took Meng Yao’s hand and guided him to his bed chamber. Meng Yao seemed unsteady on his feet and gratefully lay back against the bed, though his hands clutched his cloak nervously. Xichen’s expression softened as he sat beside him and watched him. He raised a hand to stroke his hair. 

“I would be happy even to hold you in my arms just as you are,” Xichen said. “We need do nothing more.”

Meng Yao actually scoffed slightly, but his expression was complex and difficult to read. “Do you know something, Lan Xichen? I love so many things about you that I sometimes fear it will kill me if I discover any more.”

Xichen frowned worriedly, not quite understanding his meaning. “A-Yao…?”

Meng Yao shook his head dismissively. “I mean that…I’m quite scared to be touched by you. If it makes me love you any more than this…” He closed his eyes tightly. “There won’t be room for anything else.”

At this, Xichen’s control abandoned him. He leaned down over his beloved and brushed their lips together, kissing more and more deeply. Xichen’s fingers gradually entangled themselves in one aspect of Meng Yao’s clothing or another until he pulled each one off him. Meng Yao did attempt to help, but his hesitant movements were too slow. 

Xichen shrugged off the majority of his outer garments until he was only in his pair of drawstring trousers. At this point, he looked down admiringly at Meng Yao’s nearly naked body, curled up beneath him and slightly trembling. He realized the Cold Chamber was little different from the outside temperature, and must be difficult for Meng Yao to endure. He pulled up his blankets and affectionately wrapped Meng Yao in them, climbing under with him and creating a small space of warmth between them. 

“Er-ge,” Meng Yao murmured, making Xichen’s heart flutter to be called the appropriate endearment again. “We’ll need…some oil.”

Xichen felt a slight redness reach his cheeks as he realized what they needed it for, but he did not wish to scare A-Yao away with his embarrassment or inexperience. He nodded and reached over to his beside cabinet, where he kept a vial of oil for his hair. Meng Yao cautiously accepted it from him. 

As Xichen watched with fascination, Meng Yao poured the substance over the fingers of his left hand. Though he seemed conscious of Xichen’s gaze, he reached that hand down and found his own entrance. He began to moisten and gradually loosen his entrance while Xichen’s eyes remained locked on his face, watching the pleasure flicker across it. 

Xichen wondered if he could make him feel even better without distracting him. He leaned in and placed soft kisses against his cheek and neck. Meng Yao tensed and let out soft noises each time he did this. When Xichen realized that his fingers also stopped moving every time Xichen touched him, he decided to help more directly. Beside two of Meng Yao’s, he slid one of his own, much longer fingers. 

“Nngh!” Meng Yao cried, clinging to him and opening his mouth as if to bite into Xichen’s arm. But he seemed to hold back the impulse and instead only bit his lip. Eventually he withdrew his own fingers and allowed Xichen to increase his own, pushing deeper and deeper inside him and finding every spot that made him gasp.

But Meng Yao looked more and more worried as he did so. “X-…Xichen…” he murmured in uncertainty. “It’s okay…it’s enough.”

“You want to stop?” Xichen asked worriedly.

Meng Yao made a soft noise of frustration, covering his eyes in his hand. “No…I meant…I want your…other part.”

Xichen swallowed. His brain was not entirely coping with Meng Yao’s meaning, but if they could be closer, he didn’t want to stop now. As he looked down, Meng Yao slowly spread his legs beneath him invitingly. Xichen’s breath came hard. He was so small and fragile-seeming. Gradually, he lowered himself down over him and wrapped him in his arms. 

As he begged soft kisses, he allowed Meng Yao’s small hands to guide him against his twitching entrance. Meng Yao’s legs curled around his, pulling him forward. He sighed softly against Meng Yao’s lips as he pushed slowly forward into the warmth and tightness inside him. 

“Nh…nghh…!” Meng Yao cried with increasing urgency as he slid deeper.

Xichen had to stop kissing him and close his eyes tightly to concentrate in order to avoid cumming right away. Meng Yao’s small figure, his warmth, his scent were all in Xichen’s bed, wrapped in his arms. And better than any of that, he had shouted before practically every person important to Xichen that he would love him as long as he lived. Xichen slowly opened his eyes.

Meng Yao too was fighting against sensations, his pretty face frowning in torment as he trembled inside Xichen’s arms. Xichen fell even deeper in love with him just by watching his expression at this moment. He slid gradually back out, watching the various emotions cross Meng Yao’s face, and then thrust forward again.

;”Ah!” Meng Yao cried, and then panted in quick breaths, struggling to remain still. 

Xichen’s breath too rose, and he couldn’t help trying the same move again. 

“Wai-NGH!” Meng Yao threw his head back and his whole body tensed. 

Xichen shuddered and also let out a soft moan as Meng Yao tightened around him and his cock spurted cum between their bodies. “A-Yao…” Xichen murmured admiringly, kissing his neck and even lightly biting as if kissing were no longer enough to convey his affection. 

“Er-ge…” Meng Yao whispered breathlessly. “I’m….all right…don’t stop…”

“A-Yao…!” 

Xichen buried his face in Meng Yao’s sweet-smelling neck, grasped his hips in both hands and thrust hard inside him. Meng Yao’s waist felt terribly small in his hands, yet somehow he took his full length inside him, over and over. Pleasant feelings washed over Xichen’s body from head to toe as he worked tirelessly both with words and without to reassure Meng Yao that his feelings were returned. 

But Meng Yao’s insides were so hot and tight around him. He wanted to give him more pleasure, but his own could not be held back. He wrapped his arms around him, cradling his head in both hands, and thrust tight against him in order to reach his deepest point. 

“Er-ge!” Meng Yao cried against his lips in a strangled voice that send pleasure vaulting through Xichen's whole body. 

Xichen stopped his lips with deep kisses, and then finally let out a gasp and a husky whisper, “A-Yao…!”

He held him as tight as he dared without hurting him as more pleasure than he had ever imagined rolled across his body, robbing him of sentient thought. He was filling Meng Yao with his essence. Meng Yao’s sweet gasps in his ear, the trembling of his fingers, softly digging into his skin, only prolonged the blissful moment, until Xichen could barely think at all.

It took them both some time to recover just as they were, barely moving but to softly caress one another’s faces or hair. Xichen gradually drew out from him, but then only pulled Meng Yao into a comfortable position lying on top of him under the covers, adoring the feel of his warmth and weight atop his chest. 

In the near dreamlike state of shared warmth on this cold morning, Xichen murmured, “Don’t worry too much about my uncle. We can always adopt children.”

He felt Meng Yao’s eyelashes flutter several times in shock against his chest. And then several hot drops fall against his skin. Meng Yao curled up more securely against him, but then playfully jabbed him in the ribs with his index finger. 

“I’m not sure which will come first. I’ll kill your uncle with anger, or you’ll kill me with happiness.”

Xichen chuckled, but he shook his head. “If you marry me, you’re not permitted to die before me. Promise.”

“…you are even more stupid when you’re happy.”

“Promise?”

Meng Yao thumped his head irritably against Xichen’s chest, but his voice broke as he whispered, “…promise.”


	14. The Burial Mounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nie Mingjue is goaded by Jin Guangshan into confronting Wei Wuxian.

In the past two days alone, Nie Mingjue had accidentally – or on purpose – injured three of his myrmidons when they tried to stop him from damaging his home. Now the great hall, Mingjue’s study, his bedroom, and various other places inside the Unclean Realm were all scarred by the touch of Baxia. He went night hunting and took cold baths every day, but nothing brought relief for long. He could not rid his thoughts of Kang Ruien, and the longer he stewed, the more he kept imagining him and Lan Xichen together. 

Without warning, he let out a roar and sliced an old growth tree to splinters, shocking the myrmidons who were riding behind him. Currently, he was on his way to Carp Tower to answer a summons from Jin Guangshan. The issue, once again, was the subject of Wei Wuxian, who apparently had been spotted with the Ghost General, Wen Ning, well inside the boundaries of Qinghe. There was talk – which Nie Mingjue dismissed as nonsense – that he had plans to expand the reach of the Burial Mounds.

Upon arrival at Carp Tower, he was shown to a seat nearby Jin Guangshan’s throne, and across from Jiang Wanyin who had already arrived. He cast a dark scowl to his left, where there was no place setting for the last of the four major clans. 

“Clan Leader Nie, Clan Leader Jiang,” said Jin Guangshan warmly. “Thank you for coming. The reason I have asked you here is that I think this issue concerns the two of you personally. You have heard the rumors of the Yiling Patriarch’s expansion, no doubt?”

While Nie Mingjue huffed dismissively, Clan Leader Jiang looked uncertain. They discussed the fact that although Wei Wuxian had aided in the capture of Su She and had managed to greet the young Jin Rulan without incident, these seeming attempts at diplomacy could also be an act. Nie Mingjue couldn't even feign the slightest interest in the topic. At that moment, a voice piped up from behind Jin Guangshan’s throne. “I heard him say he has plans to overthrow the Chief Cultivator.”

All three clan leaders turned to look at the smiling young man, dressed in sparks-amidst-snow though not suiting it very well, as he leaned one elbow against the throne and seemed completely immune to the heavy atmosphere around him. Nie Mingjue’s scowl deepened as he remembered the last time he had seen this man, pressing Jin Guangyao against a pillar in an all-too-friendly way.

Guangshan nodded and gestured him in. “Tell the clan leaders your story, Xue Yang.”

“Now we have to listen to this brigand?” Mingjue demanded in a loud snarl, half rising from his seat in anger.

“Please bear with me, Clan Leader Nie, his story is of interest to you as well,” said Jin Guangshan, but Mingjue knew better than to trust that honeyed voice and sideways glance. The Chief Cultivator gestured for Xue Yang to speak.

The villainous young man smirked and stepped forward. “On Clan Leader Jin’s orders, I have been spying on the remains of the Wen Clan and Wei Wuxian.”

Even at this, Jiang Wanyin’s expression changed drastically. “You what?” he hissed. “What if he had found you out?! He knows exactly who you work for. He would have taken your presence there as an act of aggression by the Jin!”

Xue Yang shrugged. “Well. He didn’t.”

“Get to the point,” growled Mingjue. “Do you have some evidence against him or are you wasting our time, and testing my patience?” he added darkly, with his hand tightening over his knee in a clearly restrained desire to grasp Baxia’s hilt instead.

But Xue Yang’s face showed only delight at Mingjue’s open hostility, and he even seemed to revel in it for a moment before answering. “He may be a genius at demonic cultivation, but the Yiling Patriarch will say anything that crosses his mind, regardless of where he is.” Taking a significant pause while maintaining eye contact with Nie Mingjue, he said with noticeable pleasure, “Including…his plans to restore the Wen Clan to their former glory. Even at the cost of overthrowing orthodoxy itself.”

As he stared back at the villain dripping poison before him, Mingjue’s blood began to boil in his chest, quickly reaching up to his head. 

Jiang Wanyin meanwhile seemed conflicted, shaking his head slowly. “That… he can’t have meant it that way.”

“Hm?” asked Xue Yang, turning to him curiously. “What other meaning is there in ‘restore former glory’ or ‘overthrowing orthodoxy’? You agree, don’t you, Clan Leader Nie?”

Nie Mingjue said nothing, but the rage was in his blood now. It was taking all his self-control not to fly straight to the Burial Mounds and raze them to the ground without asking a single question about the truth of this. It had been hard enough simply permitting the remaining Wen dogs to malinger in prison. Wei Wuxian’s impudence at killing Jin and other clans’ myrmidons in a rescue attempt was already unacceptable. “Overthrowing orthodoxy” sounded like exactly the kind of thing he had talked about during – and even following – the Sunshot Campaign. It was starting to ring true. And unforgivable.

“But you know him best, Clan Leader Jiang,” said Jin Guangshan, at last deigning to rejoin the conversation. “Oh…excuse me, I don’t mean to bring up old wounds. I know of course that you have cut your ties with him, and mean no disrespect.”

Unsurprisingly, Jiang Wanyin found this difficult to answer. Even someone as obtuse as Mingjue could easily see the torment on his face. Whatever had happened between them during their duel, it could not have been easy to cut ties with one raised as a brother. 

Nevertheless, there was hard work to be done, and it could not be left to the weak-willed or hesitant. Mingjue pushed himself up to his feet. “Clan Leader Jin speaks correctly, if copiously. Clan Leader Jiang has cut his ties with the rebel Wei Wuxian. If you brought him here to test his loyalty, it’s clearly not needed. I can only assume you did it to be cruel.” Saying this, he headed toward the exit without a backward glance, adding, “I’ll take the bait and go to these Burial Mounds, so you can save face, Chief Cultivator. You got your wish.”

He did not look back to see, but he could hear Jin Guangshan’s angered breath rise, and feel his furious gaze at his back. If he were not such an inveterate coward, Mingjue might worry that that man would murder him someday.

Mingjue gathered his myrmidons and traveled directly to the Burial Mounds. It was not a long ride from Qinghe, and though it was not his first time here, the excess of yin energy permeating all around this place actually briefly had a calming effect on him. He was more or less clear-headed as he dismounted and instructed his cultivators to keep back unless they saw a sign from him. He was prepared for a battle, but did not want to waste lives needlessly, and anyone but himself trying to break the wards around this place would undoubtedly provoke all the defensive power at Wei Wuxian’s command. 

Mingjue walked alone up the misty and desolate hill until he reached the barrier. He snapped his arm out in front of him, breaking it without even slowing down. Only moments after he had done this, fierce corpses appeared from beneath the earth and from behind trees, shuffling toward him while making unsettling groaning noises. If they came near enough, he shattered their bodies to pieces with Baxia, but otherwise he ignored them. 

After he had been walking for some time, a shadow appeared before him, different from the others. This one had baleful eyes that stood out noticeably compared to the dull expressions of the corpses he had rendered to dust on his way here. A young man who had obviously formerly been a cultivator, but now showed clear signs of death.

“C…Clan Leader Nie,” he said in a timorous voice, ill matching his ghastly appearance. 

Mingjue said nothing, glaring at the one they called the Ghost General and waiting for him to make a move to justify slicing his perfidious Wen head from his treacherous shoulders. 

“Forgive me, but…what brings you here?” Wen Ning continued softly. Mingjue was surprised by his politeness and seeming ineffectiveness of character, but it did nothing to quell the hatred he felt for all Wen. 

“Don’t speak to me,” Mingjue growled, his grasp on Baxia tightening. “I am here to see Wei Wuxian. Not his pup.”

Wen Ning’s eyes darted down toward Baxia, and when they returned to Mingjue’s eyes, there was something more than simple cowardice there. It was coldness. Wen Ning might fear him, but he did not fear the cost of killing him if necessary. “…why do you wish to see him?” he asked with little hesitation.

“Maybe to take his head off. What are you going to do about it?” Mingjue demanded wryly in reply.

“…stop you,” Wen Ning said, without a trace of fear at all this time. If nothing else, Mingjue had to respect the loyalty he seemed to feel toward Wei Wuxian. It was only too bad he was a Wen.

At that moment, “…I’d walk on my one-log bridge all day long…” came a bright singing voice. 

Though Wen Ning kept his gaze fixed on Nie Mingjue, Mingjue glanced over at the singer, who appeared moments later. “Hm? What’s got all the sentries up and about?” asked the infamous Wei Wuxian, fearlessly walking up to a fierce corpse and patting it on the head as one would a child. Only then did he notice Mingjue’s presence. 

As he looked up, Mingjue could not help but notice the decline in his physical appearance, even from the last time he had seen him at Jin Rulan’s first month celebration. He had dark rings under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept for days. The bones of his wrists and collarbone jutted out noticeably, and his cheeks seemed to have no flesh to them at all. His eyes had a yellow hue, suggesting that his organs were shutting down.

Nevertheless, he adopted a friendly partial smile as he looked Nie Mingjue up and down curiously. “Clan Leader Nie. This is a surprise. If I’d know you were coming I would have told the sentries about you so you didn’t have to get all dirty like that. Come in, come in. Can you stay for tea?”

“Wei Wuxian.”

The momentary hopefulness in Wei Wuxian’s eyes began to fade at the clear hostility in Mingjue’s voice. What was left behind was something Mingjue recognized in himself: the bitterness, frustration and fear of isolation. Mingjue’s frustration released itself on others, while Wei Wuxian’s was clearly eating away at himself. But the end result would be the same. He could see it in his eyes. Wei Wuxian was ready to die, rather than change his mind.

“You don’t really think I came here for tea,” Mingjue continued.

Wei Wuxian scoffed slightly, but his smile no longer had any trace of joy in it. “My mistake, Clan Leader Nie. I saw a familiar face and felt a little happy. Can you blame me?”

“I’m ready to leave right now if you give up the remaining Wen dogs, or your plot to revive their clan,” Mingjue growled. 

Slowly, like clouds passing over the sun, rage crossed over Wei Wuxian’s gaunt face. “Just exactly how much blood do you need, before you’ll be satisfied? They can’t even be permitted to live?”

“How many innocents had they killed to bring this fate on themselves?!” Mingjue bellowed in reply, sending birds flying away from the undergrowth nearby, sending out lonely calls across the hills that the two men could barely hear over their own anger. “The other clans have already paid the price for Wen Ruohan’s treachery!”

“As I have told you all a thousand times, these people killed no one!” Wei Wuxian roared, black magic suddenly rising all around him, sending deathly winds blowing in the space between them and making it difficult to hear. “You’ve decided your pain is greater, so your revenge has to be greater than the crime itself! The whole cultivation world is corrupt, shallow and hopelessly petty!”

“Ha!” Mingjue cried with a bitter laugh. “So your solution is to wipe it all out?! The only leadership you’ll accept is your own, is that it?!”

Though the high winds whistled loudly all around them, Wei Wuxian’s soft voice sounded distinct to Mingjue’s ears at that moment. “If you’re going to fight, then fight.”

“Gladly.”

Mingjue quickly drew a seal in the air before him and sent a flash of bright gray fire shooting up high into the sky. Then he unhesitatingly raised his saber over Wei Wuxian’s head. He was not prepared when, even before Wei Wuxian had put Chenqing to his lips, there was a flutter of black before his eyes and he was fully tackled to the ground by the Ghost General. 

Mingjue snarled and threw him with all his strength, sending the dead Wen boy crashing into a tree, which promptly split down the middle with the force of his impact. Wen Ning stumbled slightly as he regained his footing, but was clear-eyed and appeared not to have suffered any major damage. 

Wei Wuxian closed his eyes and raised Chenqing up to his lips. He began to play a noxious, seductive melody which had an immediate effect on Wen Ning. Power radiated from him, as did a rage that seemed barely contained. Seconds later, Mingjue had to defend with all his speed and experience from even the bare-handed attacks of the Ghost General.

As he fought Wen Ning, he heard shouting and the sounds of battle behind him. His myrmidons had seen the signal and followed him inside, and were no doubt encountering the same fierce corpses that he had on the way here. But soon he began to remember the amazing feats Wei Wuxian had accomplished on the battlefield, all on his own. He quickly realized it would likely be more than simple fierce corpses that they had to deal with. Unfortunately, he had little room to worry about them as Wen Ning’s attacks took up most of his attention.

Not only was the Ghost General fast enough to avoid most of even Mingjue’s deft and powerful saber strokes, but when Mingjue dodged one of his strikes and partly diverted it, Wen Ning’s fist went straight through the trunk of a tree as a hot knife through butter. When he pulled it back, there was a substantial gap of air straight through the unfortunate tree. Though Mingjue’s own iron-like body was further reinforced by his cultivation, he suspected those fists would be deadly to him as well.

Whenever he had a moment to spare, Mingjue’s eyes flicked toward the true cause of his troubles. Eyes still closed, dark energy swirling and lapping at his body like hungry dogs, Wei Wuxian played out his macabre melody, even as veins began to show in his forehead and clear pain was visible in his face. If Wei Wuxian died, Mingjue thought, the conflict would be over. 

He exerted all his spare energy on moving the fight closer to Wei Wuxian. Wen Ning was clearly aware of what he was doing and several times used all his strength to divert or shove Mingjue back. But the more they fought, even as Mingjue tired, the more he realized he was just a little bit stronger than the Ghost General. 

He finally managed to grasp Wen Ning by the top of his head and slam him down into the ground. He stepped over his struggling body to finally get in range of Wei Wuxian. He raised Baxia high over the defenseless flute-player. 

At that moment, he felt an odd sensation of long-nailed fingers clawing at his legs, then his waist and shoulders. He looked down in shock to see, writhing all around him, beautiful women dressed in red, looking up at him with black eyes and red-stained teeth. Even his stalwart heart recoiled at the sight of what were clearly demons from the other world.

Wei Wuxian lowered his flute and seemed to be fighting the urge to vomit. He overcame it and murmured in a somewhat strained voice, “Last chance, Mingjue-gege. These girls love a party and they hate seeing whole humans with all their blood still inside them. Shall I call them off? Or would you like to go the same way as Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu?”

“Hmph,” Mingjue scoffed. “Saber cultivation may not be a perfect art. But one thing it has over the jian.” He turned Baxia’s blade until it hovered over the face of one of the demon women. “It is very good at hunting out evil beings.”

He snapped his blade across the demons, throwing most back away from him and slicing deeply into one’s face, evoking a blood-curdling scream. The others however quickly rounded on him with now horrifying expressions and sharply pointed teeth, as soon as Wei Wuxian picked up his flute again and began an even more vigorous and malevolent song. 

While the demons were not completely able to avoid the bite of Baxia, neither was Mingjue able to defend against so many at once. One after another, their long fingernails and sharp teeth dug into his skin, tearing away at him bit by bit and feeding the thirsty earth with his blood. One would draw his attention as another would attack his legs, until it was a struggle to keep on his feet. He kept his mind on getting closer to Wei Wuxian, knowing one strike would end this. But he was running out of time before the blood loss became dangerous.

Just as he was growing frustrated by the increasing pain of their nails in his skin, a shout of Wei Wuxian’s name rang out above them as a bright sword glare announced the arrival of someone no one expected. And then, with a loud strum of a guqin, the demons around Mingjue cowered, holding their ears and screaming in pain. 

Lan Wangji landed softly on the ground between Mingjue and Wei Wuxian, gazing at Wei Wuxian with a hard expression. “Stop this,” he said.

Though Wei Wuxian had already stopped playing, he did not seem amused by Lan Wangji’s arrival here. He twirled Chenqing in his fingers as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “This is a familiar scene. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Have you finally gotten fed up with me too, Lan Zhan? Here to join in the execution?”

Wangji’s expression intensified, but as usual he seemed to struggle with his words. “I am here to help,” he eventually managed.

Wei Wuxian shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter who deals the final blow. I’m still more or less defenseless, since I broke my seal in half. Your music doesn’t do much against it, but if you try I’m sure you can still kill me.”

“Wei Ying,” Wangji said softly. From his expression, even though Mingjue, Wen Ning and the demons still crowded around them, one would think they were the only two people in the world. “…come to Gusu.”

“Ah, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian scolded, shaking his head in exasperation. “I thought you’d gotten the message by now. You can’t fix me. I’m not broken. I’m just here helping people, and since you don’t care about them, go off and do fuddy-duddy things on your own. I won't leave this place.”

Wangji briefly glanced toward Wen Ning, his frown deepening. His eyes also briefly flicked in Mingjue’s direction, though not directly at him. And finally they lingered over the demons, beginning to take notice of him and wonder if they should attack. 

Inexplicably, Wangji sheathed his Bichen. He nodded toward Wei Wuxian. “Then I will protect them too.”

“Eh?” Wei Wuxian questioned softly, adopting a quizzical smile. But soon it faded and he seemed to be looking at Lan Wangji as if looking at some unsolvable puzzle. 

Nie Mingjue, however, could not simply let this comment go by. He flicked demon blood from his blade and turned toward his best friend’s little brother. “Wangji. Choose your next words carefully,” he snarled, deep in his throat. “If you make me your enemy once, it cannot be undone.”

The curiosity and concern with which Wei Wuxian had been looking at Lan Wangji began to fade, his gaze lowering to the ground as certainty of his isolation seemed to hit him. He was sure, from his expression, that Wangji would not defy orthodoxy for him. But Wangji still seemed deep in thought at Mingjue’s words. His gaze lifted toward Wei Wuxian. 

“Wei Ying,” he said. And to the surprise of both, he nodded softly and murmured, “I’m with you.”

As Wei Wuxian’s face seemed to suddenly lose several years of worry in an instant, Mingjue’s blood finally boiled over. He roared in outrage that someone whose morals should have been unquestionable had turned his back on justice and chosen to defend a rebel. 

“Lan Wangji!” he bellowed, raising Baxia and turning all his rage on Hanguang-jun.

“Da-ge!”

Before he could reach him, another sword crossed his path and diverted Baxia away. In Mingjue’s rage now he could barely see, but he recognized Shuoyue gleaming before him. 

“Da-ge, stop. Let us go back to the Unclean Realm and discuss the options,” said Lan Xichen’s soft voice. 

Unknowingly, his presence here only further roused Mingjue’s anger. He roared and attacked Xichen this time, throwing all his remaining strength into strokes so powerful they forced blood from his own wounds.

“Da-ge, stop!” cried Xichen, growing more and more panicked as he realized he did not have the strength to fully defend against Mingjue in this state. The worst part was knowing, though being unable to acknowledge this fact at that time, that Xichen’s panic arose from what would become of Mingjue’s heart if he killed his friend, and not out of concern for his own safety.

When he finally managed to pin Xichen against a tree, suddenly two much smaller hands thumped against his chest, trying but almost entirely unable to stop his movement. Mingjue barely noticed the new arrival’s presence until he merely moved Baxia thoughtlessly and felt the flat edge make contact with flesh. 

“Ngh…” Kang Ruien made a soft grunt of pain as blood dripped down his forehead from where the lightest of strikes by Baxia’s flat edge had brushed him.

“Master Kang…you can’t…please run!” Xichen urged him.

Even as Mingjue growled at Xichen’s concern over him, Ruien glared up at Mingjue with more emotion than Mingjue had ever seen in him. “If he’s going to kill me, so be it. If so, then he’s simply not the man I loved. Then half my life has already been wasted. It’s no great sacrifice to lose the rest.”

As Mingjue’s breathing slowly became more regular, he struggled to understand this phrase which had apparently been intended for Xichen, not him. His gaze traveled slowly down to Ruien, still pushing him back though he could barely feel it. Even as blood loss and rage were combining to rob him of much power of vision, for at least a few moments, he could see Ruien’s face, and only him, standing out amid the muddy landscape, as if in a dream.

“You…would go so far for him?” Mingue muttered. 

Ruien’s clear, brown eyes gazed hard into his own. “I would die for the one I love. And if I’m wrong about who he is, then there’s nothing else in the world worth looking at.”

Baxia slowly lowered to the earth as his side as Mingjue’s vision began to grow dark. “Fool…he loves Jin Guangyao, not you…”

The last thing he remembered before the blood loss finally hit him was a look of pain and resignation on Kang Ruien’s face.


	15. Dark Halls of Yiling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The victims of Jin Guangshan's betrayal form an impromptu summit to discuss what to do next. In an attempt to help them, Meng Yao reveals a secret that breaks Lan Xichen's heart.

The air was musty and damp. It smelled of old decay and stone, and a lingering aura of blood. Mingjue took in a painful breath before the ache spread all over his body as he tried to move. But soon, he realized there was also a warm sensation passing from his wrist. Spiritual energy. He wearily blinked his eyes open to see a familiar but somewhat worried face looking down on him, his white clothes alone bringing more light than the sunlight from outside. 

Xichen offered him a difficult smile as he held two fingers to his wrist. “Da-ge. Somehow it feels like it’s been a long time.”

Mingjue glanced down at the place where warm energy was passing into him, and for a few moments, as he felt Xichen’s energy blending with his own, it was hard to feel anger at all. He sighed slightly and turned his gaze toward the ceiling. Above him, he could now see he seemed to be inside of a cave. He could hear soft noises of movement and voices outside, but no sounds of strife.

“Where am I?”

“…you don’t remember?” Xichen asked somewhat worriedly.

“I remember as far as being about to kill you,” he answered irritably.

He was not surprised when Xichen merely smiled idly at this as if recalling a fond memory. “Then your memory is correct. You are still in the Burial Mounds.”

Mingjue’s jaw tightened as he recalled the source of his rage before he passed out. “Wei Wuxian? And Lan Wangji?”

Xichen nodded his head toward the entrance of the cave. Outside, the sickly Wei Wuxian seemed oddly chipper as he joked with Lan Wangji, who by contrast seemed not to understand the joke. Wen Ning stood nearby them but at a respectful distance, understandably wary of Wangji. And inexplicably, Jiang Cheng was also with them, now and then punctuating Wei Wuxian’s joking with rather forceful punches. 

Mingjue glowered at the sight, disbelieving. “What is going on here?” he demanded, trying to get up.

But Xichen firmly held his shoulders down. “You should not move around yet.” He did follow Mingjue’s gaze, and adopted a hesitant expression. “To answer your question…I’m not exactly sure. Wei Wuxian suddenly called off his fierce corpses after you collapsed. Your myrmidons insisted on waiting for you, and Wangji and I promised them their safety in the meantime. And now…peace seems to have broken out.”

“What ‘peace’?” Mingjue sneered, pushing himself up to a seated position in spite of Xichen’s objections. 

Sitting up, he could now see the Wen clan moving about his seated myrmidons, offering them tea, bread and fruit. He had heard from some sources that they were no warriors left among the Wen. He now thought that might have been an understatement. The hands that offered out the food were without exception thinner, more scarred and wrinkled than those accepting it. And one small child ran riot through the whole group, brandishing a toy butterfly, oblivious to the fact that these were all soldiers capable – and indeed brought here with the intention – of killing this entire clan.

“Fools,” Mingjue growled bitterly. “They’ll never be able to fight them now.”

“Da-ge…did you really come here to kill these people?” Xichen asked him, some of the kindness fading from his face.

Mingjue couldn’t answer. All Wen were evil, he was certain of that. But there would be no satisfaction in murdering a gaggle of sickly, aged stragglers like this. It was also possible that they were keeping the rest of their army elsewhere. Even if they had none, Wei Wuxian all alone was a significant threat to the entire cultivation world. He ignored Xichen’s attempts to keep him lying down and, with difficulty, got to his feet and staggered toward the cave entrance to see better what was going on. 

It was only then that he spotted Kang Ruien making his way with difficulty among the myrmidons. He seemed to be helping the Wen to pass out food. Yet as he worked, multiple times the other Nie clan members surreptitiously tried to get him to sit down, and not just because they felt awkward being welcomed by the Wen. It was because they could hardly bear to look at him.

Ruien was walking with difficulty, not seeming to put much weight on his left leg. It was obvious from his halting nature as he moved that he was hurt in other places as well. And then as he turned, Mingjue could see what really made them cringe. His lip was split and cheek slightly swollen where a large bruise was starting to form. But drawing the eye much more obviously was the bandage that covered one of his Sogdian eyes. 

Mingjue tried to hold back the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach as he watched this pathetic display. Even as he thought the malingerer shouldn’t be drawing attention to himself, but rather licking his wounds somewhere without bothering anyone, he couldn’t stop the seething anger toward whoever had done that to him from building inside his chest. 

He glanced quickly around but none looked guilty or hostile as they gazed on Ruien. And then his memory of the moments before he lost consciousness began to come back to him. Had Ruien…pushed him? Had he tried to get in his way? He wouldn’t be that stupid, would he?

Xichen joined him in the cave entrance and followed his gaze. 

“…what happened to him?” Mingjue muttered, nodding toward Ruien.

Xichen cast him an unusually cold glance before returning his gaze to Ruien as well. “He was trying to stop you from killing me.”

Though part of him had been expecting them, each word cut into Mingjue’s heart like a knife. Despite feeling justified in his cause, he simply could not bear to lose another person who was important to him. And he had been about to destroy two at once. In fact, he thought, it was a miracle Xichen seemed unhurt. 

He glanced up at him cautiously. “…what happened?” he murmured.

Xichen closed his eyes through a moment of sadness. “Ten times, that I can recall,” he said.

“Ten times…what?”

“He stood in your way…and you struck him aside.”

Mingjue’s stomach lurched. He braced himself against the cave wall as he felt as if he might actually empty his stomach. 

“Each time he got back up, he didn’t hesitate to face you again. It was as if he had no fear of you at all, Mingjue, which is more than I could have said of myself at that moment. So…if you were once worried that he feared you, I can assure you with some confidence, that isn’t the case.”

Mingjue suddenly remembered that he had asked Xichen’s advice about Ruien before. It seemed so long ago, and so much had happened since. And now the two of them were together… Mingjue closed his eyes tightly to push that thought aside. It didn’t matter. Ruien didn’t matter to him anymore, he told himself, so he shouldn’t feel guilty about hurting him. And yet still the question rose to his lips.

“…his eye?”

Xichen’s gaze lowered with restrained emotion. “There is some damage that seems to be decreasing his vision. I’ve done what I can, but I can’t say whether it will improve.”

Mingjue was actually relieved he hadn’t crushed it, something he had done by striking fierce corpses in the head many times. But every jerking movement of Ruien’s battered body froze his insides, robbing him of the ever-present certainty in his heart he had come to rely on. The one that told him unerringly the difference between good and evil.

“Why did you bring him here?” Mingjue muttered, unconsciously trying to resolve his own guilt.

Xichen grew hesitant. “I did have some reservations, but…”

“I convinced him, Da-ge.”

Mingjue froze, thinking his ears were deceiving him. Perhaps he was still delirious. His gaze turned slowly down to see someone who had apparently been sitting outside the cave, almost as if keeping watch, and had clearly overheard their entire conversation. His small figure rose gracefully to his feet as he always did. In commoner clothes which somehow seemed to glow with the force of his innate nobility, Meng Yao almost looked like an entirely different person from the one Nie Mingjue thought he knew. 

The delicate young man offered a clearly forced, polite smile, but despite the obvious discomfort, there was a trace of amusement in his eyes. “It’s been a long time. You look well,” he said facetiously, with an obvious glance at the wounds all over Mingjue’s poorly propped up body.

“Still alive?” Mingjue grunted back at him.

Meng Yao took a look down at himself and held out his hands in a helpless gesture. “Somehow or other, it would seem.”

Mingjue turned a suspicious glance toward Xichen. “…has he been with you all this time?” he demanded.

Xichen seemed reluctant to answer, though his honest eyes gave him away. They darted out toward the myrmidons. And specifically lingered on Kang Ruien before quickly returned to the ground in front of his feet. Mingjue was startled by this gesture and also looked out toward Ruien, unable to imagine what had transpired between these three men.

“For some time, yes. Da-ge…you won’t do anything…unkind, will you?” Xichen asked in a soft voice, clearly not intended for Meng Yao to hear.

Mingjue scowled at his choice of words. “I am ruthless. Not unkind,” he muttered bitterly. “And setting aside Ruien, what is the snake doing here?" he demanded of Xichen.

“Mental exercise,” Meng Yao answered for him. “With a situation this complex, I couldn’t help but move a few pieces on impulse. I hope you don’t mind.”

Mingjue’s anger roiled inside him once again. “You…?” he hissed. “You engineered this whole situation? What for?!”

Xichen held him back as he lurched toward Meng Yao, who restricted his reaction to a flinch but did not retreat. The soft gentleman added, “Is it even necessary to say it? For our collective benefit, obviously.” He sighed to himself as he finally moved to leave. “I have suggested to Wei Wuxian to invite all the clan leaders present to discuss the situation in private, and he agreed, pending on Da-ge’s health. If you feel up to it, I suggest telling him so.”

“Snake…” Mingjue growled, before Meng Yao was fully out of earshot, though if he heard he did not seem to show any reaction as he walked away from them. “What’s his game this time?”

Xichen sighed, still holding Mingjue up as he was barely able to stand on his own. “Da-ge…in this case, regardless of our personal feelings, I believe A-Yao is right. There are four clan leaders here, and though we are all divided by past wounds, we all happen to share the same problem. This is an opportunity that will not come again. It would be foolish not to try.”

Nothing about this situation was even tolerable to Nie Mingjue. If he had not been so badly injured, he would have ordered his myrmidons home. But that would not solve the problem either, he realized. If Wei Wuxian were plotting to overthrow the whole cultivation world, and yet seemed somehow to share close personal ties with prominent members of every sect, this might not be the time for rash action. Mingjue briefly pictured the battlefield of the Sunshot Campaign, with Wei Wuxian standing over mountains of corpses, both those he had turned into puppets and those he had slain with them. If handled poorly, that fate might await not only the Nie, but every other clan as well. 

Mingjue scoffed, irritably. “He’s a dumb kid with no sense of respect,” he grumbled. “Having a few ghosts at his beck and call doesn’t make him a clan leader.”

Xichen chuckled. “From the talk here, it seems he is particularly infamous for having no skill at cooking.”

Mingjue sighed, but he did eventually allow Xichen to lead him out of the cave toward Wei Wuxian.

On receiving Mingjue’s approval, Wei Wuxian invited all the clan leaders to his hall where they could talk privately, instructing Wen Ning and Kang Ruien to wait outside. Wen Qing insisted on being present as well, and not even Nie Mingjue seemed to have the force of will to stop her. Meng Yao offered to wait outside, but strangely both Xichen and Wei Wuxian insisted he stay. Mingjue did glare frequently at him, but saw no point in objecting, certain he would get all the details from Xichen at some point anyway.

As all the clan leaders sat together at the same table, a tense silence fell over them. They were all perfectly aware of why they had never met all together like this, and who had reason for resenting whom. The tension was broken moments later, however, by Wei Wuxian standing and raising a jug of crude peach wine. “Friends!” he said cheerily. “Welcome to Yiling!”

Mingjue and Jiang Wanyin both rolled their eyes heavily. 

But no one objected to Wei Wuxian pouring them all – but for the Lan – drinks from his jug. To the Lan brothers, he offered hot water and apologized for a lack of tea. After all had had a few drinks, the discussion slowly began.

“…how is it we all share the same problem?” Mingjue grunted, though not displeased by having strong liquor in hand for the talks.

Meng Yao nodded slowly, seeming to find difficulty voicing his opinion for a moment. “In truth, I must confess, I was very much hoping that Clan Leader Jin would successfully bait either Clan Leader Jiang or Clan Leader Nie into attacking the Burial Mounds again. It is the only way this opportunity to have all of you here together could have arisen.”

“Now the truth comes out,” Mingjue growled. “Go on then, snake. No one here trusts a single drop of the poison that drips from your mouth, but go ahead. Lay your cards on the table, if you dare.”

Xichen cast him a disapproving look, but he like the others seemed not to know why Meng Yao would want them all here, and soon turned his gaze back to the smaller man. 

Meng Yao gave a delicate nod at Mingjue’s accusation, unable to refute it. “True. I have no credibility in this setting.”

“In this life,” Mingjue added cruelly.

Meng Yao did hesitate slightly at this, but showed no reaction. “Nevertheless, I must try. Both to atone for my past misdeeds and to ensure the safety of all of the five great clans.”

“Five?!” demanded both Mingjue and Jiang Wanyin. Jiang Cheng worriedly glanced toward Wen Qing, but continued slightly more softly, “That can’t be… they can’t ever be one of the great clans again. No matter what happens in the future, Wen Ruohan’s crimes, and those who fought for him, are unforgivable.”

“Agreed,” said Wen Qing. “Master Meng was being overly courteous. There is no one here who desires to restore honor or status to the Wen clan.”

Even as the Nie and Jiang clan leaders both stared at her in wonder, Meng Yao gave a deferential nod toward her. “Forgive my presumption. So it was only a rumor, in the end.”

“Personally, I don’t see the difference,” Wei Wuxian muttered, folding his hands behind his head as if he somehow found this subject relaxing. “It seems one needs ‘status’ to even be worthy of living in this world. And those jackals have done nothing to earn a single kowtow from you.”

“Well then, forgoing the issue of the reestablishment of the Wen, there is still the issue of a common enemy that everyone in this room shares,” Meng Yao said softly.

Jiang Cheng glanced toward Wei Wuxian. He hesitantly thumbed in his direction, causing both Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji to send him a dirty looks and Xichen to stifle a small laugh. Meng Yao also smiled and shook his head. 

“My father,” he said, his delicate voice echoing softly in the darkened hall.

Mingjue scoffed, folding his arms. Truly, he thought, this was shameless. No one here would doubt Meng Yao’s justification for seeing his father as a villain after what he had done to him, publicly, more than once. But even if anyone else here had reason to resent Jin Guangshan, Meng Yao’s reasoning for wanting to turn others against him was obvious. He clearly had designs to regain his former status, or maybe even to exceed it, by bringing his father down.

Jiang Wanyin spoke up to voice part of Mingjue’s objection, “For some here, perhaps…but my sister is now the mother of his grandchild. Sect Leader Lan and Clan Leader Nie also have no conflict with Jin Guangshan that I am aware of.”

“That…is not entirely true. At least for my part,” Xichen murmured softly. “I do not resent him for it now, but there was an incident which made me question his character. During the initial attacks by the Wen on the Cloud Recesses and Lotus Pier, the Jin did offer aid and a place of safety toward Clan Leader Jiang. But the only one to offer me safety at the time was A-Yao.”

“If you resent him just for that, you should resent me too,” Mingjue muttered.

Xichen shook his head. “If not for Da-ge’s leadership, the Sunshot Campaign would never have been formed at all. As everyone here recalls, Clan Leader Jin was the strongest objector toward taking any action against Wen Ruohan.”

“And he offered the fewest troops,” Lan Wangji added with a trace of bitterness.

Jiang Cheng sighed loudly. “These are minor disagreements at best. He chose to prioritize the safety of his own clan. A little cowardly, but that doesn’t make him an enemy.”

“And yet, with the Wen clan banished entirely, a stance he almost unilaterally holds on his own now, it seems likely his grandson will now be the heir to not only one prominent sect, but two,” Meng Yao said, with a significant glance toward Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng’s jaw dropped. He pointedly avoided glancing in the direction of Wen Qing, but his face quickly flushed bright red. “You…you…” he stammered helplessly.

Wen Qing actually chuckled a little, though Mingjue thought she might have seemed a little flushed too. “Master Meng is in the habit of making assumptions about my desires.”

Meng Yao chuckled in return, though there was tangible tension in the air between them. “Forgive me, Lady Wen. I was referring more to Clan Leader Jiang’s inability to form emotional attachments easily. I’m not sure this would interest you, but there was quite a fascinating rumor about him that I happened to overhear while in Carp Tower-”

“Enough with these parlor games!” Mingjue bellowed, slamming the table with the flat of his hand and shocking the others into stillness. “This is pathetic. You have no proof. You’re here sewing discontent because it suits your purposes.” He barked out a cruel laugh, internally grateful Ruien wasn’t here to see him behaving like this. “Shocking that you would still be hungry for meddling, after what it got you. What makes you think things will turn out any better for you this time around?”

Meng Yao was strangely still and silent for some time, gazing down at the table in front of him with no expression. “Partly because I am not speaking for myself today, but for all the major clans. And in particular…you, Da-ge.”

Mingjue frowned sharply. Even though this was the most unbelievable thing Meng Yao had said so far, somehow he was not able to laugh at him. “Nonsense…” he muttered halfheartedly. “Everyone here knows you hate me more than anyone.”

Meng Yao took in a breath and contemplated that statement. “Well. Not more than anyone.”

“Then what are you playing at?!” Mingjue demanded, slamming the table once again. 

Xichen stopped several cups near him from tipping over and sighed disapprovingly, “Da-ge…”

“It doesn’t matter why,” Meng Yao said, shaking his head dismissively. “What matters is that I no longer have any reason to be loyal to Jin Guangshan. Which means I no longer have any reason to hide the fact that he planned to have me assassinate you.”

This softly spoken phrase, in Meng Yao’s sophisticated and gentle voice, brought more silence to this company than all the force of Mingjue’s rage. Despite how much resentment he felt from Meng Yao on a daily basis back when they were on speaking terms, in all honesty, not once had Nie Mingjue suspected anything quite as horrible as this. He didn’t even know whether to be shocked or angry. In fact, for a moment he half convinced himself that this was just another lie, before he looked up and saw the expression on Lan Xichen’s face.

Xichen was staring at Meng Yao as if he had never seen him before. He looked at him as if a demon had suddenly appeared from thin air where the one he loved once sat. Mingjue wasn’t even sure he was breathing. 

Meng Yao was clearly conscious of the effect his words would have on Lan Xichen, but he didn’t look anywhere near him after he said them. He waited for a moment for his words to be accepted, since even though he had no credibility here, there was one thing everyone here did trust him to do. And that was to become a part of an assassination plot.

“My purpose in telling you this, despite knowing that it will break any trust I once had with anyone here…” he paused as it seemed his voice hitched, his eyes moving just fractionally toward Xichen but quickly returning to the space directly in front of him. “…is that I believe this is a chance for a fresh start. We have in this room the clan leaders from every prominent clan except one, here peacefully and without a cause for strife among them. It is obvious that there is only one clan which desires this strife between you. My father’s.”

No one seemed to know how to respond to anything he had just said. As some clan leaders exchanged tense glances with one another, Meng Yao got to his feet. “And now I think my presence has become more burdensome than helpful. I will be outside, and…I will accept whatever decision the clan leaders reach.”

Mingjue might have been imagining it, but even though he still wouldn’t meet Xichen’s horrified gaze, it sounded as if the last comment had been directed toward Xichen alone. Meng Yao bowed and exited the room, leaving them in a heavier silence than when they had started.

The first one who managed the wherewithal to speak was actually Wen Qing. “Is it true that the efforts to imprison or banish the remaining members of my clan are solely at Clan Leader Jin’s order?” she asked the group, in a surprisingly calm voice, given the subject matter.

Jiang Cheng shook his head dismissively. “No…Clan Leader Yao, and Clan Leader Qin also-“

Wei Wuxian sighed loudly, interrupting him. “Those two couldn’t stand up to Jin Guangshan if they were propped up like scarecrows.”

Wangji said, “It is true that Clan Leader Jin made all the arrangements, and suggested those with a possible connection to yin iron should be imprisoned.” More softly, and seeming conscious of his brother nearby, he said, “Although it was originally Lianfang-zun who made that suggestion to him.”

“…meaning his purpose in imprisoning them was, at least initially, to sniff out any possible remaining yin iron,” Wei Wuxian said thoughtfully. “And now, his purpose in sending you to attack me,” he said, nodding his head toward Nie Mingjue, “…is twofold. Either you die, and he solves that problem. Or you kill me and obtain what’s left of my Stygian Tiger Seal, so then he finally gets a hold of that.”

Jiang Cheng made a noise of frustration. “Don’t start talking like he’s some dark, scheming villain all of a sudden! Lan Wangji just said it, the schemer is that Meng Yao!”

“Really? How did Mingjue-gege find himself here exactly?” Wei Wuxian posed the question. 

“Well…it was…a servant of Clan Leader Jin’s. He said you were plotting some kind of overthrow…” Jiang Cheng lost his enthusiasm midway through his sentence.

Wei Wuxian snorted in disgust. “That would be a pain in the ass for little reward. Say I did take over the Chief Cultivator’s chair. No one would follow me anyway. I’m already half nursemaid and half mad recluse here.”

“And not very good at either,” Wen Qing contributed.

“Xichen,” Mingjue’s low voice cut through the light atmosphere. 

Xichen was motionless, staring at the table in front of him. He looked as if he wanted to cry out, but couldn’t find his voice. 

“…was he telling the truth?”

Xichen seemed shocked to have been asked the question, blinking and parting his lips, but neither looking up nor able to answer at first. After taking a breath, closing his mouth for a moment, he found his voice again but barely managed any volume. “I don’t…” He looked down at his hands and swallowed. He shook his head. “I don’t know of…any reason he would be lying.”

Mingjue let out a heavy breath. “If things were not as they are, I would kill him for what he just admitted,” he said, causing the other clan leaders to stare at him in genuine fear. “But if what he says is true, then I can’t let this go. Jin Guangshan needs to be put down.”

While Wen Qing and Wei Wuxian each gave very slight nods, Jiang Wanyin was clearly horrified. “Clan Leader Nie…think about where this information is coming from. You’re talking about another coup, in as many years, all on the word of one man who is known to be a liar and a killer.”

“That is precisely why I believe he was willing to kill me,” Mingjue said matter-of-factly. “Lan Xichen is the only one who knows him better than me, and he says there’s no reason for him to lie. Therefore Jin Guangshan is my enemy unless you can prove otherwise. What do you say, Xichen?”

But Lan Xichen seemed miles away. He didn’t answer, not even with a nod. He glanced vaguely in Wangji’s direction as if for help. 

Wangji sighed softly. “When the truth is better known, Gusu Lan Sect will stand on the side of justice, whatever that may be. I am with Wei Ying.”

Wen Qing nodded slowly. “For whatever help we may be, my brother and I are also with you, Wei Wuxian.”

“You’re all very sweet, but I haven’t said anything about killing Jin Guangshan,” Wei Wuxian protested with an awkward smile. “Shall I remind you what it took to rally the troops needed during the Sunshot Campaign? Lotus Pier and the Cloud Recesses were both destroyed. An entire young generation of cultivators kidnapped and thrown into mortal danger. Even then the smaller clans only rallied for Lan Xichen because of Wen Ruohan’s mistreatment-“

“What we need is not a coup, it’s a trial,” Mingjue barked. “He will be charged with a murder plot, imprisoned or executed, and leadership will go to Jin Zixuan or Lan Xichen or whoever else the masses decide. If it’s true what Jin Guangshan tried to do, then all we need is Meng Yao’s testimony. Most likely he can conjure up a few more of his spies who will corroborate his story.”

Xichen’s head finally lifted with a lifeless expression. “Da-ge…if he testifies, then…A-Yao will also be acknowledging his own guilt…his fate will be the same as Jin Guangshan’s…”

Mingjue stared hard at his friend, despite his care for him, unwilling to give a single inch of ground. “And?”

Xichen’s eyelashes fluttered softly, but otherwise he did not move. He seemed unable to comprehend what was happening around him. He slowly lowered his head almost in defeat and did not speak again. 

“If Jin Zixuan were Chief Cultivator,” Wen Qing asked, “what would his stance be toward my people?”

Jiang Cheng’s face slowly grew hopeful. But in the end he shook his head with uncertainty. Wei Wuxian looked to him worriedly as well. “Jiang Cheng…you know him better than I do. Does he ever talk about hating the Wen?”

“No… he did try to stop Jin Zixun from using prisoners for target practice, though.”

Wen Qing raised her eyebrows facetiously. “How saintly of him.”

“So we’re agreed,” Mingjue said. “Jin Guangshan will stand trial. And if he’s found guilty, then the conflict between us is over.”

Wei Wuxian was the first to nod. “Very glad I didn’t kill you, Mingjue-ge.”

Mingjue downed the last of his peach wine and passed his cup over to be filled again. Raising a threatening eyebrow at Wei Wuxian he muttered, “Catch me without your bodyguard next time, and see if you can.”

But to his surprise, Wei Wuxian grinned widely and refilled his cup, as well as his own. 

Like one possessed, Lan Xichen slowly stood from the table and stood listlessly for a moment. Saying nothing and not even making eye contact with anyone, he left out a different entrance to the hall that Meng Yao had left from. Wangji watched after him, looking as if he wanted to follow. Wei Wuxian caught his eye and nodded to encourage him to go, at which he immediately swept from his seat and followed his brother. 

Wei Wuxian scooted a little closer to Mingjue and said, “Now that the fuddy-duddies are gone, drink with me and tell me a little bit about what’s going on with Lan-gege.”

Mingjue closed his eyes with a sigh, but was grateful to drink through the pain in his body. And an even deeper ache at the thought that Xichen was finally experiencing the same betrayal at the hands of the same person that had so wounded Mingjue’s heart.


	16. Rage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not only Nie Mingjue, but even Lan Xichen too finds it difficult to avoid letting rage influence their actions, as the Jin clan proves a particularly loathsome adversary.

Everything hurt. In particular, the more Ruien walked, the more stiff and painful his left leg felt. And though it didn’t hurt by comparison, the fact that he hadn’t been able to see much from his left eye ever since the seventh or eighth time Mingjue knocked him to the ground was concerning. But he was alive. 

After the Wen had passed out their meager welcoming fare and some had even begun to talk to the Nie myrmidons, asking them for news of the outside world, Ruien became concerned about what was happening inside the grand hall. Meng Yao had come out some time ago but ignored Ruien when he tried to speak to him, and had instead gone off on his own somewhere. A few minutes later, Lan Xichen had emerged alone, moving in a hurry but not seeming to have a direction. He had disappeared down a forest path, soon followed by Hanguang-jun. None had yet returned.

The next to emerge, some time later, were Clan Leader Jiang and Lady Wen. However, they too seemed deep in conversation and not to be disturbed. They walked casually around the Burial Mounds as if walking through a garden, Wen Qing here and there pointing out their efforts at making the place more livable. Jiang Cheng seemed preoccupied about something else, but at the same time highly attentive to her. 

Ruien became curious as he realized this meant there were only two left inside the hall. Cautiously, he approached and peered in through a gap in the door. Wei Wuxian was still drinking heavily from a jug full of peach wine. Nie Mingjue had a full cup in his hand, but it was resting on the table, his head low as if he hadn’t the energy to lift it.

Wei Wuxian let out a pleasant sigh after swallowing. “Ah!” he said, spotting Ruien. “You! Punching bag-gege! Come in! You drink?”

Ruien wasn’t quite sure what to make of this invitation, but Mingjue didn’t seem to object to him coming inside. He cautiously entered and bowed to both gentlemen before answering, “I do…”

“Come here, then. Come, come. Drink, drink,” he said, gesturing Ruien to the table with them and pouring him a cupful. As soon as Ruien was seated and had taken a sip, Wei Wuxian grinned mischievously and asked, “You probably want to read your clan leader the riot act for getting so worked up earlier, right?” 

Mingjue’s eyebrows twitched threateningly but otherwise he did not react to this statement.

“Master Wei…forgive me, but you misspoke,” Ruien said, but addressing the cup in front of him. “I have no clan leader.”

Mingjue’s huge body visibly tensed. A slightly bloodshot gaze turned up toward Ruien, but the great man still remained silent and almost entirely motionless.

After taking a drink, Ruien calmly explained, “I was expelled from the Nie clan.”

“Hmm,” Wei Wuxian took this in with a dubious look. “You always put your life on the line for those who aren’t even in your clan?”

Ruien hesitated, quite certain that if there had ever been a time when Nie Mingjue might accept his feelings, it certainly wouldn’t be now, when he clearly hated him. He took another steadying drink before answering as he set his empty cup back down on the table. “I was not expelled by choice.”

“Well you didn’t leave me much of one, did you?” Mingjue demanded, his growling voice finally rising. “You were lying to me. Keeping a lover in my house. Damned snake.”

Ruien couldn’t help a making slightly confused expression at the word ‘lover.’ Nie Mingjue still seemed unaware of the fact that Ruien had been keeping Meng Yao inside the Unclean Realm. Even if he knew, he should be aware that Ruien felt little more than mild jealousy and resentment toward the man who broke Nie Mingjue’s heart. On the other hand, he couldn’t possibly be talking about Lan Xichen. No one would look at the two of them and think Kang Ruien suited the ethereally beautiful Lan sect leader. 

“I’m not sure how that misunderstanding arose, Clan Leader, but I have never kept a lover inside the Unclean Realm,” Ruien said, attempting to avoid any sign of emotion. He nodded in acceptance as Wei Wuxian grinned at him delightedly at how this conversation was going and poured him another cup.

Mingjue gave a dismissive grunt. “Meeting one then.”

Ruien frowned again slightly before slowly shaking his head. 

Mingjue’s jaw tightened in rising anger. Finally he snarled, “Stop lying to me! How many times?! I told you I value only one thing above all in my myrmidons, and that is integrity. If you don’t have the stones to tell the truth to my face, then get out! Don’t show yourself before me again!”

“…all right,” Ruien murmured. Ignoring the clear threat in Mingjue’s words, he raised his cup and took another slow drink. He set it down. Took a breath. “It wasn’t a lover. It wasn’t a dog either.”

Mingjue’s anger hadn’t faded, but his face hardened pitilessly. “I didn’t ask what it wasn’t.”

“…it isn’t my place to say what it was.”

Mingjue scoffed bitterly. “Is that so? You still won’t say? So lover or not, there’s someone who has more of your loyalty than me. That’s what it comes down to.”

Ruien’s heart wavered. All this time, he had believed he had done what was right. Even though it contradicted Nie Mingjue’s wishes. Even though no one would ever hold any part of his heart the way Nie Mingjue did, and even though he knew he would be hated by him for it. Having been raised alongside Nie Mingjue had instilled in him, more than anything, a reverence for justice. Even, and indeed especially, when it was hard. He could not compromise that belief. Not even for someone that he loved.

“No single person has more of my loyalty,” Ruien said softly. “But if Clan Leader Nie ever strays from the right path, I will never stop trying to bring him back. Even if it costs me my life.”

There was a slight hitch in Nie Mingjue’s harsh expression, and for a moment it seemed he might have been moved by Ruien’s words. But soon enough, clouds of suspicion and resentment formed over his face once again. 

“You talk so pretty,” Mingjue growled softly, his lip twisted in a cruel sneer. “When what you really want to say is you’re sick of a violent lover who doesn’t hold up to his best friend in looks or temperament.”

Ruien froze in astonishment. He couldn’t even hide the shock from his face. Mingjue had really been talking about Lan Xichen? He believed Ruien and he were together? More importantly, there was one word that continued to echo inside Ruien’s mind.

“…lover…?” Ruien whispered almost inaudibly. 

Mingjue’s expression twisted. This time, though it was primarily frustration, Ruien could swear he saw a flicker of pain. Without another word, the clan leader pushed out from the table and stormed off. 

Quietly, Ruien remained trapped in his single, casually uttered word. He replayed Mingjue’s voice just now repeatedly in his mind to make sure he had heard him correctly; he couldn’t escape the way, at least it seemed, Mingjue had just referred to himself as Ruien’s lover. Had he been speaking metaphorically? Or was he so inexperienced that he believed anyone with whom one had a sexual relationship should be considered a lover? Or…was it possible he meant it?

Ruien remained lost in the flurry of emotions cast up by this single word for so long that he failed to notice Wei Wuxian grinning and holding back laughter as he stared at him. Ruien blinked as he noticed his gaze. 

“Well,” said Wei Wuxian delightedly. “If we’ve established one thing, it’s that Mingjue-gege does not do well with rejection. I’ll say it again, but I’m really glad I didn’t kill him just now. Ha ha!”

That afternoon, after Ruien narrowly avoided having Wei Wuxian drink him under the table, it was time for the various clan leaders to go their separate ways, before the inevitable conflict with Jin Guangshan. Nie Mingjue was the first to depart the Burial Mounds, with barely a gruff word exchanged with anyone on the way. Jiang Wanyin, who had arrived by sword, departed that way not long after him. But then the situation became quite awkward for Ruien as the whereabouts of the two people he had arrived with remained unknown. 

Meng Yao returned first, wearing the same blank expression he had inside Ruien’s room the Unclean Realm. He sat beside Ruien on an old log without looking at him. Wordlessly, the two waited for Lan Xichen’s return. 

But to the shock of all, the first sign of the Lan brothers’ presence was a normally serene voice raised in an enraged shout. Ruien, Meng Yao and several Wen clan members froze instinctively at the sound. Suddenly there was a loud boom of a spiritual energy attack, followed quickly by the creak and snap of a tree nearly exploding with the force. Meng Yao leapt to his feet, already taking several steps in the direction of the noise. 

After a tense silence, both Lan brothers emerged from the forest path down which Lan Xichen had earlier fled. But no one could fail to notice the spots of blood down Lan Wangji’s lip, and subsequently his formerly pristine robes of white. His expression remained stony as ever. Meanwhile, Lan Xichen’s face seemed drained of blood entirely, as if he had seen a ghost. 

Ruien was shocked when, after placing a hand on his brother’s arm and murmuring something inaudibly to him, Lan Wangji walked straight up to Meng Yao and Kang Ruien. Glancing significantly between them, he said, “Please make sure my brother returns to the Cloud Recesses safely.”

Meng Yao seemed somewhat shellshocked, his eyes slowly passing from Wangji’s wounded form to Xichen’s hollow and pallid one. Ruien didn’t understand any better than he what was happening, but for fear of seeming rude, he quickly nodded and bowed toward Hanguang-jun, though wobbling slightly from the pain in his leg. 

Lan Wangji did glance back at his brother once, but then he moved to stand beside Wei Wuxian, who seemed if anything more shocked than anyone. 

Wei Wuxian began softly, “Lan Zhan…is Zewu-jun-“

“He’s fine,” Wangji cut him off simply.

Looking doubtful, Wei Wuxian took in Lan Xichen’s empty expression, not failing to notice as the elder Lan brother slowly turned over his own trembling hand to stare at it as if it belonged to someone else. Wei Ying returned a worried gaze to Lan Wangji. 

“He looks like he needs help,” Wei Wuxian said softly to Wangji.

“Perhaps. But not from me,” Wangji answered.

Wen Qing fearlessly approached Lan Wangji, checking his qi before he could object. She recoiled slightly. “You have two cracked ribs…how are you standing?”

With that, Ruien sensed it was time to leave quickly, before Lan Xichen’s guilt made him feel any worse. “Come on,” he softly urged Meng Yao beside him, who still seemed catatonic. 

Reluctantly, Meng Yao followed as Ruien approached Lan Xichen, giving a perfunctory bow. “Sect Leader Lan. We should leave now to reach the Cloud Recesses before dark.”

Xichen’s tortured expression intensified, even as he only stared at the ground before his feet. Eventually, he managed a dull nod.

“…Er-ge…” came a soft but pleading voice. 

Xichen turned his tormented gaze on Meng Yao, who seemed to shrink before it. 

Meng Yao swallowed, clearly trying to control his expression. In a voice even Ruien standing right next to him could barely hear, he asked, “Is there still…a place for me, in the Cloud Recesses?”

After a small ripple of shock passed over his face, as if Lan Xichen hadn’t considered the possibility of Meng Yao not returning with him, he seemed to realize why that would be. For a few, quiet moments, his face showed only defeat. 

“You must come back,” he eventually replied, but strangely there was no sense of longing or affection in his voice, as Ruien had come to expect from Lan Xichen when it came to Meng Yao. “At least…you must come back.”

Ruien saw the briefest flicker of heartbreak over Meng Yao’s expression, but he quickly controlled it. He nodded. Sensing it would be next to impossible for these two to be in such close quarters for the journey back, Ruien opened his arms to Meng Yao as he mounted his own sword. The smaller man nodded in acceptance and held onto him, while Ruien tried to keep the pain from his injuries from his face. Xichen cast them a brief, worried glance before mounting his own sword. They traveled all the way back to Gusu in silence.

For the next few days, the Cloud Recesses seemed even more silent than usual, as Ruien was no longer able to overhear the softly pleasant exchanges between the two elegant gentlemen. Lan Xichen did not visit Meng Yao, nor did Meng Yao even venture out of his and Ruien’s chamber for the most part. On one of the few times he did, Ruien accidentally caught sight of Lan Xichen cornering Meng Yao and speaking to him in harsh whispers with a tormented expression. But whatever he said, Meng Yao didn’t seem to have any response. Ruien stayed until he was sure Meng Yao wasn’t actually in danger from Lan Xichen’s anger, as apparently Lan Wangji had been, but in the end he received no reaction at all. On that occasion, the great sect leader was forced to leave in defeat.

Soon after, Nie Mingjue invited the leaders of the Four Clans to the Unclean Realm, saying only that there was a case which required arbitration, and therefore the presence of the Chief Cultivator. Surely if Jin Guangshan had guessed why his presence was needed, he would not have agreed so readily. 

Nie Mingjue purposefully invited the other clan leaders to arrive an hour earlier than the Jin. As a result, when Jin Guangshan arrived with his retinue, though it appeared as if he were being greeted on either side by the presence of the other clans, he was, in effect, also being surrounded. The slow closing of the vast gates of the Unclean Realm behind the backs of the Jin myrmidons seemed far heavier than usual. The air became tense as all but the Jin accepted the fact that blood might be about to be spilled.

As Jin Guangshan entered the great hall, the other clan leaders rose and bowed to him. Nie Mingjue indicated the seat closest to him on his right, which had been specially prepared for the presence of the Chief Cultivator. 

“So,” said Jin Guangshan, as he leaned back comfortably in his seat. “What is so important that you bring us all off our laurels to all the way here in Qinghe, Clan Leader Nie?”

Ruien, though currently standing some distance behind the Lan sect, thought that Nie Mingjue had never looked more handsome than right at this moment, as he faced the man who held the power to destroy him – had indeed plotted to do so – and showed neither hatred nor fear. 

“I have discovered a murder plot against me.”

The eyes of the other sect leaders purposefully avoided looking toward Jin Guangshan, but Ruien couldn’t help it. He shuddered as he saw innocent shock cross over the Chief Cultivator’s face. 

“Well, that is certainly serious,” said Jin Guangshan, and to all appearances he seemed to be hearing this for the first time. “But I’m surprised the greatest warrior among us would ask for help on the matter. Can you not mete out punishment yourself?”

A heavy silence fell, as Mingjue closed his eyes and hesitated to answer immediately. Now Jin Guangshan finally began to look around him and notice that no one but him seemed confused about why they were all here. For an odd moment, Ruien thought his expression looked blank. Then he forced a small laugh.

“What is this? I seem to be missing something,” he said, turning his attention toward Mingjue again with a slightly sinister smile.

Nie Mingjue met his eyes steadily. “I have found a witness, and he claims there are others who can confirm his story, who says that he was coerced into plotting my assassination in order to secure his own future. Within the Jin Clan. By you, Clan Leader Jin.”

This time, though again the room was eerily silent, Jin Guangshan’s gaze did not leave Nie Mingjue. Nor did his smile even fade. In fact, he chuckled. “Clan Leader Nie…do you mean to tell me you believed such a thing?”

Mingjue’s gaze did not waiver either. “You deny it?”

“Of course I deny it!” Jin Guangshan said, laughing as if he were genuinely amused by the idea. “I’ve never heard such nonsense! On the contrary…you realize that such an implication against the Chief Cultivator is itself a grave offense…one that a petty man might take to an extreme.”

Jiang Wanyin shifted nervously, while Lan Xichen turned a hard gaze on Jin Guangshan. Nie Mingjue’s expression didn’t change once.

But then Jin Guangshan broke the very tension he had created by chuckling again. “Of course, you all know I’m not that sort of man. Nor am I the violent sort at all! I’d be very interested to hear where you heard such a story.”

“I do intend to call my witness. At the trial itself, and not before. But I do not have the authority to arrest you, and so it will require your cooperation, Chief Cultivator.”

Jin Guangshan blinked innocently at Nie Mingjue for some time, as if he could not quite understand what was being said to him. Eventually, and with another, somewhat hesitant laugh, he asked softly, “Is this your plan? To discredit me, throw me in jail, and then claim the role of Chief Cultivator yourself, Clan Leader Nie?”

“My plan is to enact justice,” Mingjue said, though with a hardness of his jaw that indicated his rage was rising.

“Clan Leader Nie…” Jin Guangshan said, shaking his head sorrowfully. “I had heard that your rages had become worse again, but that you should imagine this fantasy, that even the Chief Cultivator of all people should somehow be part of a conspiracy against you-“

“I didn’t say ‘conspiracy,’ did I?” Mingjue demanded, but with perhaps too much force to his voice.

“Now, there is no need to shout,” Jin Guangshan said, seeming to appear even less threatening than he normally did. Suddenly the image, despite all present being aware or at least informed of Jin Guangshan’s treachery, became one of Nie Mingjue bullying the old man seated below him. “If there is a plot against you, we shall find it out. Of course we will. In the meantime, your yang energy is really oppressive, it’s almost stifling,” Jin Guangshan said, rather casually rising to his feet. “Let’s continue this discussion once you are well. I shall send you some of Lanling’s best qi healers until then.” 

“We are not done!” Mingjue growled, his harsh voice echoing through the keen tension of the hall.

Jin Guangshan let out a soft sigh. “Your record of course stands for itself, Clan Leader Nie. I would never think of removing you from your post for so small a crime as accusing me. But…” he slowly walked over to a pillar in full view of the whole room and examined a deep cut of a sword which lay there, sliding his finger into the huge gap that was clearly left by none but Baxia. “…a clan leader who is not in control of his own actions is no clan leader. That is worth remembering. I wish you health. For myself, I must be back to Lanling before the chill sets in. Clan Leader Jiang. Zewu-jun.”

He nodded to each of the others of the four great clans before departing almost as soon as he had come. 

During the time when he was slowly traveling out of earshot, in the heavy silence left behind, Mingjue’s anger was visibly building. Finally, as the distant gates of the Unclean Realm could be heard to close, he snapped. 

He roared with all the force of his deep chest, and suddenly ripped his high seat from the floor, where it was nailed in, throwing the whole, immensely heavy object through the far doors of the hall that Jin Guangshan had just left through. The other clan members quickly got to their feet, wondering what to do. 

“Out!” Kang Ruien shouted underneath Mingjue’s raging voice. “All of you, out!” Fortunately, most of the lower clan members did not need to be told twice. Jiang Wanyin lingered only a moment, but he realized he could not stop Mingjue and his presence would only complicated matters.

“Ruien…” Xichen murmured softly, even as Ruien began to physically push him out too. 

But when he caught Xichen’s eye, Ruien only shook his head, firmly. He himself had never seen Nie Mingjue in this high of a rage before. Someone was likely about to die in an attempt to stop him. And if someone had to die, it could not be the Lan sect leader. Ruien pushed Xichen out and made sure the other clan members followed before slamming what was left of the hall doors closed behind them, further sealing them with talismans. 

“Snake…snake…I’ll kill him!” Mingjue was raging, not as yet reaching for Baxia but grasping any heavy object in reach and shattering them to pieces.

Ruien did not hesitate. He knew Mingjue was still at least partly conscious, and there was only a small chance of him regaining control before he really did become unstoppable. Even more fearful as he could still not see out of his left eye properly, he ran directly into the range of Mingjue’s rampage, leapt up and clung to him like a cat clinging to a tree. 

“Mingjue!” he cried instinctively into his ear.

It was fortunate that he had. He felt a sharp pain at his back. Mingjue’s fist had already clenched into the back of Ruien’s clothes in preparation to toss him away. In an instant, his powerful fingers had bruised Ruien’s back and torn several parts of his clothes. The moment Ruien said his name, he hesitated. 

His breathing was ragged, his body painfully hot. He seemed totally unaware of his surroundings, but for the moment, he had stopped. Ruien closed his eyes, clinging more tightly to him, and wishing more than he ever had in his life that he were some great healer or cultivator who could perform some magic that would bring peace to the war going on inside this noble man. 

He gently rested his face in the hollow of Mingjue’s neck, his heart aching at the thought of how much pain he must be in. Just physically, he knew that having frequent fevers would make anyone in almost constant pain. That Mingjue normally managed to restrain his rages to explosive moments only made Ruien care for him even more deeply. Despite the strange and painful sweetness of being able to hold him again, he was torn apart by fear of what Nie Mingjue’s future could possibly be, if nothing could ever bring him relief.

“Mingjue…” he found himself whispering again. 

At this, he felt some of the tension in Mingjue’s body ease, just fractionally. He was still so hot, his fist still clenched in the back of Ruien’s clothes as if he hadn’t decided whether or not to throw him. His breath still felt raised and brutal in Ruien’s ear.

“I won’t leave you,” Ruien whispered, barely even aware of what he was saying. As soon as he believed Mingjue was unaware of his presence, his true feelings emerged from his mouth. He could think of nothing but that he would give anything to bring Mingjue some comfort. “I’ll stay…no matter what happens. You don’t need to be afraid. You’re not alone. I’m here.”

By the time he finished speaking, Mingjue’s breathing had become more regular. Twice, he loosened and tightened his fist in Ruien’s clothes, still seeming to fight himself. They remained like this he had no idea how long, but long enough for his arms to start aching from clinging so tightly to Mingjue’s neck. 

Slowly, as if he were simply exhausted, the heavy weight of Nie Mingjue’s head came to rest on Ruien’s shoulder. Mingjue took several difficult breaths there. His other hand rose and curled around Ruien’s form, holding him against Mingjue’s chest. The fist tightened in Ruien’s clothes slowly loosened and flattened against his back. 

At some point, he did not know when, Mingjue crumpled to the ground with Ruien still held against him. Once there, he let almost all the heavy weight of his upper body rest against Ruien. He said nothing. Ruien wasn’t even sure if he were conscious. But as he kept Ruien there, held in his lap like a doll, the temperature in his body very gradually came down. 

Ruien blinked through tears of frustration. Thinking him unconscious by now, he shifted his face upward, among Mingjue’s disheveled hair, and placed a reverent kiss against his forehead. 

“Please be safe,” he whispered. “I won’t ask anything of you ever again. Mingjue…I love you. Please be safe.”

Though he thought he felt Mingjue’s grasp tighten slightly, he showed no sign of having heard. Ruien continued gently stroking his hair, now and then whispering comforting words, until he too eventually fell asleep in the middle of the great hall, in his clan leader’s arms.


	17. Unifying Force

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Kang Ruien and Nie Mingjue finally seem to grow closer, Nie Mingjue plans out his confrontation with Jin Guangshan. At a crucial moment, he receives a gesture of salvation from someone he would least expect.

Even though most of his body was still buzzing with pain and rage and he was aware of very little around him, Mingjue held close the comforting warmth and familiar scent in his arms. He couldn’t tell if it was morning or evening when he opened his eyes. There was a slight chill but a warm and pleasant light through the woodcuts of his hall. He slowly ran his fingers over the form in his arms, seeking to confirm the contours of the body he knew quite well. He didn’t have much wherewithal at that moment to wonder why Ruien had come back to him. He just melted against him, not wishing to think about anything.

He felt Ruien take in a full breath, stirring awake. The first thing he did on waking nearly broke Mingjue’s heart. Barely moving, he placed a soft kiss into his hair. He seemed to think Mingjue was still asleep. Which meant that he had done that not to placate him or seduce him, but because he wanted to. Mingjue was not a person who cried. But his eyes stung as he began to realize how much having Ruien’s affection meant to him. 

But after a moment, Ruien turned his head and saw that Mingjue’s eyes were open. “Clan Leader…” he murmured with soft hesitation, as if reluctant to offend Mingjue by confirming with words that he was awake and in his right mind. 

Mingjue’s chest felt hollow and sunken with guilt. He still hated the fact that Ruien continued to hide something from him, but he couldn’t deny anymore that being without him was torment. And by now he had to accept that, whether it was out of loyalty as a servant or genuine care, Ruien was devoted to him. Pushing him aside anymore would be foolish. But would he even want to come back?

“How do you feel?” Ruien asked at Mingjue’s continued silence.

Further guilt struck Mingjue at the thought that Ruien hadn’t even completely healed from the last time he had put his body on the line to protect Mingjue, and yet he was concerned over Mingjue’s health instead. “It doesn’t matter,” Mingjue muttered under his breath.

He felt Ruien’s hands part the hair over his forehead in order to place the back of his fingers there and feel his temperature. Mingjue instinctively closed his eyes as the soothing coolness of his touch.

“…a little warm,” Ruien noted softly.

Mingjue opened his eyes in bitter self-disgust, wanting to fly off to the nearest waterfall and spend a few hours there in reproach of himself. But even as he thought this, Ruien’s smaller hands gently stroked his face, and even tilted up his chin.

Mingjue wasn’t prepared for a kiss from the man he loved at that moment. Nor for the realization of the emotion he had just felt. But there it was, staring at him as if it had always been there. He loved Kang Ruien. He wasn’t sure exactly for how long, but as those lips brushed his, like a lightning bolt running through him, he was struck speechless by how much of his heart this young half-Sogdian occupied. 

Why was he kissing him? Even as the pleasant sensations spread down his battered body, he couldn’t understand. It didn’t feel like a seductive kiss, like the one when he had first offered to ease Mingjue’s yang energy. It felt like being needed. Being comforted. Yet almost as soon as these deep feelings of sweetness reached his heart, Ruien slowly pulled away again.

As he kept his face near, and seemingly searching Mingjue’s expression with care, Ruien stroked his cheek with the backs of his fingers. As always, he showed barely any emotion in his face, but Mingjue was starting to get used to seeing the subtle changing of his slightly drooping eyes, which now seemed softened with tenderness. 

“We should try to expel some more of your yang energy,” Ruien said softly, though it sounded like he was saying something entirely different. Something that made Mingjue’s heart beat faster.

Before he could object, he felt Ruien’s lips brush against his again. And from that moment it felt too good to stop. His arms tightened around Ruien’s smaller body, instinctively pressing their hips as close as possible as Mingjue’s cock responded immediately to Ruien’s touch. He grunted as Ruien instinctively rolled his hips against him, giving them both achingly pleasant sensations. 

His whole body was tingling. Ruien fit so perfectly into the hollow of his arms, small enough to hold and yet strong enough to support Mingjue’s weight. He ran his hands up the smaller man’s back and wove them in his hair as he deepened his kiss. Ruien shuddered slightly and a soft gasp brushed against Mingjue’s lips, which only further encouraged him. But then he felt a soft but insistent touch on his shoulders, urging him to stop. Reluctantly, he did. 

Ruien reassured him by resting his forehead against Mingjue’s, once again caressing his face as if to tell him without words how much he had missed him. “Clan Leader,” he said softly, making Mingjue’s spine tingle with the sweet sound against his lips. “Are you aware that there is more to sex than what we have done?”

Strangely, even though there was no denying the care in Ruien’s actions, somehow this phrase felt as if he were pushing Mingjue away again. The actual answer to Ruien’s question was far from his mind. He eventually shook his head numbly.

“…it uses…a part that women sometimes use too. Do I need to be more precise?”

After a moment of thought, Mingjue again shook his head. He did feel a slight flush against his cheeks which he couldn’t help at hearing the one he loved talk about erotic topics, but the mechanics of sex were not something that held much of his interest unless it was immediately relevant. It took him a moment to realize that in this case it probably was.

“If you won’t be disgusted, could I ask that you indulge me? Even if only once?” Ruien continued, with a slight hint of melancholy in his subdued voice.

Dark clouds seemed to roll over Mingjue’s heart as once again his eyes stung. Only once? 

He turned his eyes up to meet Ruien’s searchingly. But it was no use. This man revealed so little, someone like Mingjue would never be able to see the depths of his emotions. Once again, Mingjue couldn’t help thinking how preposterous it would be for this loyal, intelligent, gentle and brave person to have feelings for him, especially in comparison to Lan Xichen. His eyes lowered again in defeat. 

“Do what you want,” Mingjue murmured.

He was not prepared when Ruien answered this acceptance with another deep and lingering kiss, as if thanking him. He really couldn’t imagine that being with him was worthy of thanks, but he held his subordinate closer and encouraged his sweet kisses. 

Ruien eventually pulled away, and this time he slid down Mingjue’s body, partly undressing them both as he did. Initially, he put two fingers deep into his own mouth, making sure they were thoroughly moist. He moved that hand around to the other end of his body. But before Mingjue could be certain what he was doing with it, his conscious thoughts were blown away by the feeling of Ruien’s tongue drawing Mingjue’s cock into his mouth.

Mingjue shuddered, his eyes instinctively closing as pleasure thrummed through him. Somehow, after realizing how he felt about him, receiving this kind of sexual favor felt almost uncomfortably good. He could barely think about anything except how embarrassing it would be if he came as quickly as he feared he would.

Fortunately for him, it seemed Ruien’s main purpose wasn’t to stimulate him, but rather to make his cock sufficiently wet. Other than some rather tantalizing, savoring movements of his tongue, he moved comparatively slowly. It was around this time that Mingjue noticed, from Ruien’s own reactions, what he was doing to himself.

He couldn’t see clearly, but he could tell Ruien’s fingers were moving in and out of himself. Occasionally, as they went deep, Ruien would twitch or tremble. Now and then, soft noises would echo from Ruien’s throat to Mingjue’s cock, causing Mingjue to grit his teeth and look away from the incredible sight, lest he lose himself completely. 

Several agonizing minutes later, in which Mingjue nearly exhausted himself simply from the physical effort of holding back his orgasm, Ruien finally drew away. Mingjue swallowed heavily at the sight before him. Ruien’s lips were pink and his breath ragged, drool visible at the corner of his mouth. He even looked somewhat dazed. Truthfully, all Mingjue could think about at that moment was that he wanted to cum inside that mouth. But he realized Ruien wasn’t anywhere near done with him yet.

The smaller man crawled into Mingjue’s lap, wrapping his legs around his waist and his arms around his neck. Mingjue badly wished they were naked in bed at this moment so that he could feel Ruien’s skin on his own, but he felt waiting one second longer might give him a nose bleed. He pulled Ruien as close as possible, looking up at him with some amount of trepidation.

Ruien also seemed uncertain as he met Mingjue’s gaze. As if intentionally trying to break Mingjue’s heart, he placed a soft kiss, and then another, on Mingjue’s cheek. Almost as if he were still trying to comfort him. While Mingjue was still reeling at this, he felt Ruien’s hand reaching around to position Mingjue’s cock against his entrance.

Mingjue closed his eyes and took in deep breaths to keep calm. He felt the urge to cum from the moment he began to push inside Ruien’s warmth. On top of which, Ruien’s hole was almost painfully tight. Mingjue looked up worriedly as he suddenly realized his cock was larger than average, and he had no reason to think that Ruien was used to this.

But though there were flickers of pain across his face, Ruien’s cheeks were warm and his breath heavy as he clearly fought against deep pleasure to maintain his composure. Taking in quick, uneven breaths, he seemed to be repeatedly trying to concentrate on slowly sinking down toward Mingjue’s hips, taking him deeper, only to have his progress halted by sensation. When he was still only about halfway down, his cock happened to brush against Mingjue’s stomach and he shuddered from head to toe, opening his mouth to let out a cry but then immediately clasping his hand over it to silence himself.

Mingjue frowned in disappointment, seeing this behavior as emblematic of everything about Ruien that hurt him. He reached up and grasped Ruien’s wrist, slowly pulling his hand away as the smaller man rather adorably trembled and fought against the pleasure slowly filling him. 

“Why do you do that?” Mingjue asked him softly.

In barely above a whisper, Ruien struggled to answer, “My voice…is…deep…”

“…yes?” Mingjue demanded, still not understanding the problem.

“And…rough…”

“What about it?”

Ruien slowly opened his eyes, at which point Mingjue could see that they were tinged with red. But whether from pain, pleasure or sadness he could not tell. “Jin Guangyao’s voice…is very soft and beautiful. And you said I was too loud, so I thought…I sounded too different from him.”

Mingjue almost thought an audible crack echoed through his chest as he suddenly remembered saying something similar. Once. The first time they were together. Had Ruien been holding back all this time because he thought Mingjue was thinking of Jin Guangyao? 

“You…why would you go that far? To do this with someone you thought wasn’t thinking of you at all…to pretend to be someone else,” Mingjue murmured in wonder. “Are you really in love with me after all?”

He regretted asking as soon as the words were out of his mouth, as he worriedly searched Ruien’s face. He realized he couldn’t bear it to hear out loud that he had been wrong. 

But no words came in answer to his question. Instead, flickers of torment crossed over Ruien’s face as he fought against the overwhelming sensations. His lips parted as he seemed to be trying to form a response, but was unable to. Mingjue’s heart ached from seeing this expression, even though he couldn’t say exactly why himself.

When it was clear Ruien wouldn’t be able to answer, Mingjue raised both hands to caress the sides of his face. He placed a kiss at the corner of Ruien’s eye. 

“I don’t want you to be Jin Guangyao. Do you hear?”

Ruien still seemed uncertain. His fingers rather sweetly curled against Mingjue’s shoulder, almost as if asking for help.

Mingjue pressed another kiss to his cheek, pulling him closer, and then said deeply in his ear, “Don’t hold back. Let me hear you.”

To make it even harder for Ruien to hold back his voice, Mingjue curved his hands around the small of Ruien’s back and pressed his hips down. As Mingjue’s cock was pressed deeper than ever inside him, Ruien finally arched his back and let out a short cry. Adorably, he immediately hunched in on himself and held onto Mingjue, trembling. Mingjue reached up to stroke his hair comfortingly. But he wanted to hear more. 

He wrapped Ruien tightly in his arms and shifted his hips up, piercing slowly but deeply inside him. Ruien jolted with a strangled cry, clinging to Mingjue like a piece of driftwood in the ocean. Warmth flooded through Mingjue’s body at how much Ruien seemed to be depending on him, at least just for this moment. While caressing his muscular body, he continued his efforts of slowly helping Ruien sink down until their hips met, and he was completely inside him.

Once he was fully inside, despite his almost painful desire to cum, Mingjue also felt an urge to sleep, just like this. He stroked Ruien’s hair and closed his eyes, taking in his scent and warmth. Mingjue’s body was still in pain from his excess yang energy and from sitting or so long on the cold wooden floor, and yet he could hardly remember ever feeling so comfortable. It was a deep, fulfilling feeling. He almost wished he would never have to go without Ruien’s being in his arms again.

He realized Ruien’s breathing was still quite ragged, even though he was not moving at all. He looked up worriedly to see whether he might be in pain. “Are you all right?”

To his shock, the usually composed and even emotionless Ruien curled in against him and whispered breathlessly against his lips, “Clan leader…” His eyes were darkened by lust and he didn’t even seem fully aware of who he was. His lips just barely touched Mingjue’s, not in a kiss but rather a hungry pleading. “I can’t…think…”

Everything about this small moment lit a fire inside Mingjue. With a brutal kiss, he pushed Ruien down against the floor and thrust inside him. A panicked cry echoed against his lips. But as much as he enjoyed that feeling, he badly wanted to see Ruien fully losing his composure. He drew back slightly, supporting himself with his hands on either side of Ruien’s ribs on the floor, and let his instincts go. 

As he thrust over and over inside him, Ruien behaved in a way Mingjue never would have imagined. He writhed and cried out with every thrust of Mingjue’s cock as if he were coming apart. Mingjue cursed himself for going so long without the knowledge that his lover had such a sexy voice. It was low and rough just as he said, but his inability to control it sent shivers down Mingjue’s spine. 

Mingjue pushed up some of Ruien’s clothes so that he could see the desperate tensing of the muscles of his chest and stomach. If he were in any doubt about how much pleasure Ruien was feeling, he could now clearly see his cock hardened so much it was turning a vibrant pink, leaking precum onto his twitching stomach. Mingjue reverently caressed Ruien’s stomach and chest as he continued pumping inside him.

After hardly any time at all, suddenly Ruien’s body tensed all over, his back arched high against the floor, his mouth open wide but no sound emerging from him. Mingjue gasped as his hole clamped down on him almost painfully hard, and then twitched around him, almost as if trying to coax him to cum. But he quickly realized, even as he was trying once again to hold back his own orgasm, that Ruien continued twitching and making soft, desperate noises for some time, without any sign of visibly cumming.

Not knowing at the time what a dry orgasm was, Mingjue couldn’t be sure what was happening to him, but he could barely move from the pleasure of Ruien’s insides squeezing him. He let out several heavy breaths, trying to restore his conscious thought. He was fighting a losing battle, of course, as he was increasingly desperate to fill Ruien’s insides with cum. In the end, though he tried to give Ruien a chance to calm down from whatever he was feeling, even just twitching as he was was far too exciting. Mingjue leaned down close, gathered his trembling beloved in his arms, and thrust deep inside him until he couldn’t think.

Immediately Ruien’s voice rang out once again, his arms wrapping desperately around Mingjue’s neck. Mingjue shuddered blissfully as his fingernails dug into his back, and he again wished they were naked so he could feel them directly. 

“Clan…-eader…” Ruien panted in half-moans. “…-ove…you…”

Pleasure and disbelief ruptured through Mingjue’s body as he lost all sense of himself for several moments. Even in his uncertainty at Ruien’s soft, slurred speech, thinking he had said what Mingjue longed to hear sent pleasure vaulting through him. He grunted and tensed as an orgasm like none he had ever felt rolled down him in waves.

He could feel his own cock twitching violently inside Ruien as he let out his entire load inside him. Even after he felt he must have emptied everything he had inside Ruien, the feeling continue to thunder through him for what seemed like minutes on end. Both men seemed barely able to move, Ruien limp on the floor and nearly hyperventilating, and Mingjue feeling as if every heartbeat of Ruien’s dragged yet more pleasure out of him. 

Finally he crumpled down onto his own elbows for a moment, only just having the presence of mind that against this hard floor his weight might actually injure Ruien. Once he had his breath back, he looked over to realize that – whether from pure exhaustion or from the nature of what they had just done – Ruien seemed unconscious. He became lost in looking at his sleeping face for some time, but he realized he too was exhausted, and finally felt as if he could sleep soundly as he had not done for some time. 

Mingjue carefully pulled out of him. If he had not been so tired himself, the sight of Ruien’s slightly pink, dripping hole would have easily been enough to make him want to go another round. But for now there was only one thing he wanted to do. He gathered Ruien into his arms and brought him directly to his own bedroom. There, he pulled off both their clothes and then enclosed Ruien in his arms under the blankets. As he stroked the still-sleeping Ruien’s hair, Mingjue slipped almost immediately into a deep sleep.

The following morning, as Ruien was still asleep, Mingjue mounted Baxia and flew directly to Gusu just as the sun was rising. He met privately, and separately, with two particular residents of the Cloud Recesses, though he did not stay long with either. When he returned to the Unclean Realm a less than an hour later, he sent a message to Lotus Pier as well. By afternoon, he had answers from both Lotus Pier and one more person he had asked Jiang Wanyin to contact for him. Over the following days, with just one more meeting all together, a plan was decided.

…

As it happened, Ruien knew nothing of his clan leader’s clandestine activities. In fact, he was entirely preoccupied with the issue of what miracle must have happened for Nie Mingjue to change his mind. Was he sick? Had he somehow had a qi deviation when no one noticed, and damaged his brain? 

Nor was he about to jinx his good fortune by asking directly about it. Ruien simply resumed his former duties as if nothing had happened. Even though he had been gone less than two weeks, he felt a strange satisfaction at how slapdash Nie Mingjue’s work was without his help. 

One evening, as he was preparing to finish his work and head to bed, he noticed Nie Mingjue hovering in the doorway, seemingly waiting for him to finish. He straightened the documents he had been checking and set them aside, moving over to his clan leader.

“Clan Leader Nie. Are you feeling feverish?” he asked, assuming that was why he was here.

Mingjue let out a soft, irritable sigh. “I have to be ill to talk to you?”

“…so, there isn’t anything wrong?”

The absently frowning clan leader didn’t answer right away, his gaze cast to the ground near Ruien’s feet and his expression unusually pensive. “No,” he muttered, and already seemed to be turning to leave. “Never mind.”

“Clan Leader,” Ruien quickly stopped him, reaching out and grasping his hand. 

Mingjue glanced back at his own hand grasped in Ruien’s, his frown deepening as if in confusion. Ruien’s stomach twisted nervously as he misinterpreted the expression as anger and almost as quickly let go. 

“Of course…there doesn’t have to be anything wrong,” Ruien managed with barely any volume, unable to meet Mingjue’s gaze. “If you need anything from me, you need hardly ask.”

Mingjue’s head turned away again, but he hesitated before leaving. “I know. That’s why I can’t ask, you fool,” he grunted, and even though he couldn’t see his face from his angle, Ruien thought he could hear suppressed emotion in his voice. “Forget it. Come if you want. I don’t care either way.”

Though having to hold back his own astonishment, wondering what had just happened, Ruien followed Mingjue without much thought. That night, and seemingly totally unconcerned about the eyes of the servants who brought the water, Mingjue ordered a warm bath and told Ruien to get undressed. Very uncertain at this point – and beginning to wonder if Mingjue were planning on punishing him in some cruel way – Ruien obeyed. 

Mingjue disrobed at the same time, barely glancing at Ruien as he did. Somehow, even though Ruien had seen Mingjue naked many times before, this time felt entirely different. In the low candlelight, his eyes felt trapped by each ripple of Mingjue’s muscular body as if came into view. In particular the way his powerful back tapered down to an erotically narrow waist, without a scrap of fat to impede the view. 

Mingjue grasped a wash cloth and soap and stepped into the tub. He gestured in front of him. “Come here,” he said.

Though Ruien was not a particularly large man, the bath was not much bigger than Mingjue himself. He hesitated, but in the end his desire for closeness to his clan leader won out against his worries about breaking the tub. 

He stepped inside and stood for a moment before his clan leader before leaning back against the rim of the tub to give him more room. Mingjue didn’t say anything, just dipped the towel in the water and began wordlessly running it over Ruien’s body. Ruien found this deep sense of care from him quite difficult to endure. As much as it felt blissful, he wasn’t quite sure where to turn. 

As much as it was tender, Mingjue’s touch didn’t seem to be sexual. He asked Ruien to turn around and took his time washing and rubbing down his back. At one point he stopped, grasping a strand of Ruien’s now-damp hair. 

“You hair curls?” he muttered, his deep voice rumbling tantalizingly against Ruien’s back at this distance. 

Ruien swallowed. He nodded. “I dry it wrapped tightly in a towel to keep it straight.”

“…why?”

“Just a habit now,” Ruien admitted after a moment of thought, surprised by the question. “I used to get bullied for it. But I haven’t thought about it for years.”

As Mingjue seemed to be contemplating this answer, Ruien turned around and took the cloth from him. He wordlessly began washing Mingjue’s body as well, all the while pretending his heart was not hammering in his chest from what he was doing. Mingjue calmly allowed him to do this, whether or not it had been his original intention. He even allowed Ruien to lift each of his arms and spread out each of his fingers to make sure he didn’t miss any places before he turned around and gave Ruien his back.

Especially as his wild hair was still loose down his back, its ends erotically dripping with water, Ruien was quite overwhelmed by both his vastness and his rather feral beauty. He had to reach up in order to gather Mingjue’s unruly hair in his hands and shift it over his shoulder, revealing the rippling muscles of his back. Ruien swallowed, having to stop himself from simply spreading his fingers across it and appreciating each and every groove and scar. 

He reverently washed Mingjue’s back until the larger man seemed tired of it, turning back to face him again. He grasped his wrist and the towel fell with a soft noise into the water between them. Ruien couldn’t think as he felt drawn as if by invisible wires into Mingjue’s arms. They kissed deeply for some time, neither seeming to grow tired of it even after minutes on end. 

Mingjue treated him even more tenderly that night than he usually did. So many times he kissed the back of Ruien’s neck and held him tightly while making love that there were red marks all over Ruien’s body by morning, but Ruien didn’t notice any pain from them. Ruien lost count of how many times he came from simply having Mingjue inside him, not to mention these sweet behaviors. 

As he was exhausted and already half asleep, Mingjue murmured in his ear, “Is your eye still…?”

“It’s all right,” Ruien replied sleepily. 

Mingjue sighed. “Don’t come to Carp Tower tomorrow.”

Since he was so exhausted and his heart so moved by Mingjue’s behavior tonight, Ruien made an irritable noise as he briefly forgot his status completely. “You’re dreaming.”

Mingjue did indeed seem to recoil in shock at his impertinence. But after a momentary pause, he sank down beside Ruien again, wrapped him tightly in his great arms, and kissed his cheek and hair over and over. 

…

On the surface, the cultivation conference planned at Carp Tower on this day was just like any other. But to the shock of all, it was also attended by both Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian. Unbeknownst to all but the clan leaders themselves, this now put four clan leaders on one side of the conflict that was brewing, and only one on the other. As Jin Guangshan viewed their entrance from his seat high above, he was obviously struggling to maintain his composure. 

“Well,” he said with an awkward laugh. “Not only Hanguang-jun, but we are also graced by the presence of the Yiling Patriarch it seems.” He descended from his seat and greeted them warmly in spite of himself. “Forgive me for not sending out an invitation directly,” he said, cordial but obviously implying that they had not been invited.

“Oh, pretend I’m not here,” said Wei Wuxian, clearly tickled pink by how upset Jin Guangshan must be by his presence. “I’m just here to keep Hanguang-jun out of trouble,” he added, patting Lan Wangji on the shoulder. Though Wangji did cast him a somewhat dubious glance, Ruien actually thought Hanguang-jun seemed quietly rather pleased.

There was something else which quickly drew Jin Guangshan’s attention, however. At Wei Wuxian’s entrance, Nie Mingjue got to his feet. Almost at the same time, so did Lan Xichen. After a soft outward breath of frustration, finally so did Jiang Wanyin. Now, even more so than when they had all gathered in the Unclean Realm, it was inescapable how Jin Guangshan seemed to be surrounded in the center.

The Jin cultivators, including both Jin Zixuan and Jin Guangshan, as well as the lesser clans all around, looked with confusion on this display. Though clearly conscious of Wei Wuxian, and indeed subtly inching back from him, Jin Guangshan turned at once toward Nie Mingjue, with a clearly forced smile. 

“Clan Leader Nie. Do you have something to say to me?”

Nie Mingjue’s expression did not change in the slightest. “Chief Cultivator Jin. Surrender yourself.”

“Surrender myself?” Guangshan repeated incredulously. “To what exactly? The fevered imaginings of a mad clan leader, drunk on his own power? This has gone far enough, Clan Leader Nie. You need help.”

“Chief Cultivator Jin,” came Lan Xichen’s voice, echoing through the hall like the clear sound of a bell. “If you are innocent, then there is nothing to fear. The Gusu Lan Sect will ensure justice is carried out.”

Jin Guangshan’s eyes quickly darted from Lan Xichen to Nie Mingjue, and then clearly avoided looking at all the lesser clans who were clearly both stunned and concerned by what was happening. He forced another small laugh. “Even you, Zewu-jun? You’ve fallen prey to Chifeng-zun’s wild imaginings?”

Though Lan Xichen did not respond, one of the members of his retinue slowly stood up from behind him. There was a soft glimmer of spiritual energy, and suddenly the entire hall let out a collective gasp of shock. Somehow hidden from their sight until now, the formerly faceless member of the Gusu Lan Sect was now recognizable as Meng Yao. 

“Clan Leader Nie’s story is neither wild nor imagined,” Meng Yao spoke in his gentle and softly noble voice, suddenly seeming much more so than Jin Guangshan. “I will explain the details of the plan to take his life, in order to secure Chief Cultivator Jin’s power. A plan in which I was to play the role of the assassin.”

Meng Yao gradually lowered his eyes to the floor. “I have come here to take responsibility for the role I have played in the deaths of countless, innocent members of the Wen Clan, Su Minshan, Jin Zixun, and the banishment of Wei Wuxian. All this was done either on the orders of, or in an attempt to win favor with, the Chief Cultivator. My father, Jin Guangshan.”

Even though almost the entire crowd had turned to Meng Yao with only hatred and scorn, gradually that energy shifted to focus once more on the speechless Jin Guangshan in the center of the room. Jin Guangshan stared at his son in barely contained outrage. 

“Son of a whore!” he proclaimed, and though no doubt everyone in the room had been thinking it, somehow most still recoiled from hearing. “Is this your proof?” Guangshan demanded of Mingjue. “No one will believe this backstabber!”

“The remainder of the evidence will be presented at trial,” Mingjue said calmly. “Clan Leader Jin. Surrender yourself peacefully. You would not like the alternative.”

“This…this is treason!” Jin Guangshan cried in a high-pitched voice, gesturing around for support from the lesser clans, who still seemed shocked into silence. “He’s trying to grab power for himself! You all see it, don’t you?!”

“No…Clan Leader Nie refused the Chief Cultivator position…” came a soft voice from among the lesser clans.

Jin Guangshan hurriedly searched the crowd, but it was not clear who had spoken. “Nonsense! Nonsense! Get out, I banish the Qinghe Nie Clan from Lanling!”

“And the Yunmeng Jiang Clan?” came Jiang Cheng’s irritable voice as he folded his arms in disgust. 

Lan Xichen said nothing but only offered a soft and somewhat pitying smile. 

Wei Wuxian seemed to be beside himself with delight. He raised a hand high in the air as if asking a question. “And the Yiling Patriarch too! Like I said, I’m just here to keep Hanguang-jun out of trouble, so if you cause trouble for him, well, you’ll just have to banish me too. Or…”

The Yiling Patriarch did not finish his sentence, but he did not need to. Though he leaned partly against Lan Wangji, one hand was resting on an object with was stuck into his belt. Chenqing. 

“Fine!” Guangshan shouted through the hall. “You’re all banished! Get out, or you will become the enemies of the entire cultivation world!”

“Father, wait…!” Jin Zixuan tried to interject.

Mingjue slowly raised his hand and drew Baxia with a horribly drawn out, metallic sound which sent chills into everyone present. The softly red glow of his blade seemed to be hungering for carnage.

“Think carefully, Guangshan,” Mingjue growled.

“…Xue Yang!” Jin Guangshan screamed suddenly. But he also instantly drew his own sword and prepared to defend himself. 

Lan Wangji and Jiang Wanyin both saw this. As they together flew to restrain him, a flash of sparks-amidst-snow streaked past from out of nowhere, heading for Nie Mingjue. 

A sickeningly large splatter of blood fell to the marble floors, bringing all activity to a halt. Nie Mingjue, along with Ruien and everyone else who was within sight, stared in frozen shock. 

Xue Yang’s sword, Looming Disaster, was a streak of dripping red visible through the formerly pristine white robes of the Gusu Lan Sect. A rattling, wet breath. A blood-filled cough, and another splatter on the floor. Meng Yao’s eyes grew dull as he seemed to teeter on the verge of consciousness. Looming Disaster had sunk deep into his chest and most of its blade was visible through his back. 

A momentary thick silence of horror. Then a tortured voice rang out.

“A-Yao!”


	18. Cut to the Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ragged edges of Meng Yao's injury seem to help to heal the rift between him and Xichen, helped as well by the insightful - if abrupt - interruption of Nie Mingjue.

Almost simultaneously, Lan Xichen and Wei Wuxian grasped Xue Yang’s shoulders. Wei Wuxian placed an explosive talisman there, but Xichen’s own hand released a wave of spiritual energy that knocked the entire crowd back a step. The end result was that Xue Yang – or most of him – became little more than a mangled mess thrown to the far wall of Carp Tower. Even so, Ruien could have sworn that his last act was a chilling, misshapen smile.

Lan Xichen smoothly removed Looming Disaster from Meng Yao’s chest and helped him to the floor, pressing both his hands into the thick blood flowing from his wound and trying to suppress it. Even at a distance, it was obvious he was shaking. 

“Wangji,” he murmured, barely audible.

With Jin Guangshan already well restrained by Jiang Cheng’s Zidian, and looking rather horrified by what had just become of Xue Yang, Lan Wangji left him and hurriedly knelt beside his brother. 

“Please cut up my robe for me,” Xichen whispered, even more softly now that Wangji was close. “I can’t see.” 

With a horrible pang in his chest, Ruien realized when he glanced at Lan Xichen’s face that his eyes were bloodshot and heavy with tears, already dripping down onto the barely moving Meng Yao’s narrow chest. Wangji quickly used Bichen to render most of Xichen’s sleeve into ribbons. Both brothers worked together with the ease of practice and efficiency to press hard into the wound to keep the bleeding minimal even as they tightly wrapped it.

“A-Yao…” Xichen said in a trembling voice, clearly trying but failing to affect composure. He was already feeding him as much spiritual energy as he could. “I think your lung is collapsed, but…I can heal it, if you just hang on a little longer. It’s very important that you focus your energy on healing right now.”

Meng Yao had closed his eyes as he lay back, but he now slowly opened them to watch Lan Xichen. Ruien could not have described his expression at that moment. The pallor from his blood loss and the blood streaked down his mouth and chin made him seem half in the next world already. But there was no pain or regret in his face. He looked both awed and content, as if he were gazing on a vast and untamed sea.

With difficulty, he slowly lifted one hand to gently brush Xichen’s wrist with his fingertips, a subtle and somewhat clumsy gesture of affection. Xichen took in a sharp breath at the touch and hurriedly looked up to gauge Meng Yao’s expression, but he was still blinking past tears.

As Meng Yao took in a rattling breath, clearly intending to speak, Xichen quickly said harshly, “Don’t try to speak!”

Meng Yao persisted anyway. “It’s…enough…” he whispered.

Xichen rapidly blinked through tears that only seemed to grow harder to control. “What?”

Meng Yao closed his eyes again and minimally shook his head. “I’ve tried…enough. There’s nothing more.”

“…of course…there is more to this life!” Xichen said in a voice that broke. “You have…a place of safety in the Cloud Recesses, that you will always have. Soon…soon I’m sure you will find your place again. This moment is nothing, and it will pass! Please…A-Yao…”

Slowly, one tear slipped down Meng Yao’s cheek. And then another. But still no sadness showed on his face, and he seemed more than content filling his eyes with the sight of Lan Xichen, even as the great cultivator above him cried pitifully. 

“How strange,” Meng Yao rasped softly. “Once…I thought that simply staying alive…was a radical act. When one is hated…discarded…in a way, it is revolutionary. Surely, it is the best revenge. That I should now find…it is all meaningless. To think that, in the end…all that ever mattered to me was being loved by Lan Xichen. And that without that…truly nothing else seems important.”

Xichen trembled as he stared through his tears in shock, still desperately trying to heal Meng Yao as quickly as he could but obviously distracted. “Why…why would you say this now?” he asked, his voice cut by emotion. 

As Meng Yao closed his eyes in resignation, two more tears slipped down his cheeks. “Forgive me, Er-ge. I fear that I may become a vengeful spirit…if I don’t tell you properly before I…”

Xichen breathed harshly for a moment, trying to control himself. “You’re not dying,” he whispered.

“Even if I live…it will only be to face execution.” Meng Yao held back a cough and swallowed painfully, but a new streak of blood still ran down from the corner of his mouth. He regained his composure and again looked up at Xichen as he said, “Please let me tell you.”

Xichen bit his lip and sobbed slightly, but soon managed to restore his breathing. Almost inaudibly he replied, “Tell me what?”

With a small smile that quickly faded, “…I love you.”

Xichen froze completely. He looked as if he had been slapped. Betrayal and torment streaked across his face, even as he continued trembling and trying to hold Meng Yao’s blood inside his body.

Ruien had never seen Meng Yao this way before. Even when he had lost everything and had been hiding in Ruien’s room, though he had given up his act at the time, he had still been concealing something. As he looked at him now, he would not have believed it was the same man who had once faked his own death in order to betray Nie Mingjue, or who had heartlessly killed Nie myrmidons in a supposed attempt to assuage Wen Ruohan’s rage long enough to then save Mingjue’s life. In place of the smooth-talking noble gentleman, this poor creature seemed incredibly bare and small. 

Meng Yao closed his eyes and took in a breath that rattled with blood to continue. “I have loved you almost since the moment I first met you. I would say who wouldn’t…you are perfect, after all. But I need you to know. Every single thing about you won my heart. Each and every day. You seem to be always in control…you never show fear. But you do fear. You fear for those you love, and it makes you stronger than anyone. You may not remember…but you once said that my mother cared for me…and that was what mattered. You cannot know…”

At this point, partly in pain and partly from emotion, Meng Yao had to stop. Several more tears dripped down his cheeks even as Xichen sobbed hopelessly above him. 

“…you cannot know…how much those words saved me. Xichen…I’m not sad,” he said more gently, reaching up a hand and attempting to brush away Xichen’s tears, though more only followed. “You did everything you could. I love you. I am grateful to have loved you. And my only regret is that I’m sure hell will have no trace of you to remind me.”

“Stop…” Xichen whispered, redoubling his efforts to heal him. “Please stop. You said…you said it was a lie before…you said you couldn’t love…”

“Yes…I’m sorry,” Meng Yao murmured, his eyes seeming more empty and hopeless than ever. “I knew you couldn’t forgive me for what I tried to do to Da-ge. I was trying to make it easier for you.”

Xichen was now loudly crying, a sound that could not fail to shatter every heart that heard it. “No…no…” He sobbed and hunched in on himself, unsure where to turn. “A-Yao, it doesn’t matter anymore, please…don’t leave me …”

But after a soft and longing gaze up toward the greatest cultivator alive reduced to childish tears, Meng Yao’s eyes drew closed again in resignation. 

“Hmph. Never took you for a quitter.”

Nie Mingjue’s harsh voice cut straight though the gentle atmosphere of the two suffering gentlemen on the floor. All eyes quickly turned up to his forbidding figure in shock. Even a slightly bitter glance from Meng Yao. Yet despite the jarring nature of his interruption, Ruien instinctively felt a swell of hope and pride in his chest. 

“Wh-…what?” Xichen murmured, seeming shocked at his callous intrusion.

“Meng Yao,” Mingjue continued, ignoring Xichen to hover over Meng Yao with a disdainful expression. “You know there are few people who hate you as much as I do. But even I thought you had more balls.”

Meng Yao rounded a glare up at his former benefactor. “Sorry to disappoint,” he said, without the slightest attempt to hide his hostility, clearly resentful that he might be about to die from saving this man.

“So that’s it, huh? You do one good deed and you’re ready to give up,” Mingjue said.

“Da-ge…it is hard enough under normal circumstances to endure your overbearing presence,” Meng Yao answered, closing his eyes briefly in pain. “Right now, I’m afraid I have no patience…to pretend to be interested in your moralizing. Just this once…I beg your indulgence.”

“Oh, it’s all well and good for you,” Mingjue continued, pacing around the two on the floor threateningly like a panther in a cage. “You get to look heroic and win back Xichen’s heart, and with barely any hard work or effort.”

“…effort?” Meng Yao hissed back with his bloody mouth, anger sparkling in the depths of his pain-struck eyes.

“Isn’t that right? You might have saved me a stab wound, but that brigand probably couldn’t have killed me as easily as he could kill you. The real reason you dived out just now was to spare yourself the effort of going up against Jin Guangshan.”

Despite the clear rage over what seemed to be the simple humiliation of hearing these words out loud, there was a flicker of something else that Ruien could see in Meng Yao: guilt. Mingjue was at least partly right.

“When you die, I’ll die too anyway, since I’ll have no case against him without you, and he’ll surely find a way to murder me in my sleep for the crime of accusing him,” Mingjue continued, nodding vaguely in Guangshan’s direction, but not even sparing him a glance. “So. Do you really want to be helpful, or just die a martyr?”

Meng Yao’s ragged breathing rose in gathering frustration until he choked up a small amount of blood. Xichen quickly tried to help him, but Ruien thought he actually looked much healthier afterward. 

At that point, Mingjue turned to Jin Zixuan, who had gotten to his feet but was now watching events unfold looking dumbfounded. In a show of humility that was utterly unsuited to his character, Mingjue once again earned the shocked gazes of the crowd of smaller clan leaders as he clasped his hands and bowed before the young Jin Zixuan.

“Master Jin. I am sorry for the disturbance that myself and the other clan leaders have caused in your home. And for arresting your father in front of you,” Mingjue added in what, for him, was a considerate undertone. “During the trial, we will be in need of an interim Chief Cultivator. But the Jin Clan itself is also in need of leadership. Are you prepared to accept these responsibilities?”

“I…” Zixuan still seemed shell-shocked, unable to keep up with the conversation. His eyes darted from his brother bleeding on the floor, to the mangled remains of Xue Yang, and then to his father. Somehow the greatest horror in his face seemed to come from the last place his eyes fell. 

“Be honest and firm if you are not,” Mingjue urged him, though Ruien thought with much less aggression than usual. 

After another glance down toward Meng Yao, Jin Zixuan nodded. “I am.”

“Zixuan?!” cried Jin Guangshan, struggling in the bonds of Jiang Cheng’s Zidian. 

But Jin Zixuan seemed strangely calm even at the panicked cry of his father. “I do not wish to believe these accusations against my father,” he said in a clear voice. “But the only justice is in a fair trial, for which Meng Yao is an invaluable witness.”

One of the smaller clan leaders mumbled, “He speaks so well at such a young age.”

Another chimed in, “So dignified.”

“Zixuan…I’m your father!” Guangshan screamed.

Zixuan nodded solemnly. But his gaze lingered on Meng Yao. “Are you not his father too?” he asked in a soft undertone, only meant for Jin Guangshan. 

“You…unfilial…you corrupt…! You’re all…traitorous cowards!” Guangshan turned his criticism toward the whole group instead of just Zixuan. “You’ll suffer for this…if you put me through this humiliation, this farce, and you put my head on the chopping block-“

“Then what?” chimed in Wei Wuxian, looking rather pleased with himself. He removed Chenqing from his belt and twirled it in his fingers, coming to stand directly before Jin Guangshan. “You’ll haunt us? Hee hee. You’re welcome to try.”

Despite Guangshan’s continued screaming and vitriol, they managed to get him into a holding cell, guarded by myrmidons of all of the four major clans. The smaller clan leaders were all told to rest for the evening and that they would be encouraged to attend the trial as soon as it could be arranged. 

Lan Xichen stayed exactly where he was, almost motionless as he healed Meng Yao, who by now had lost consciousness. Lan Wangji offered to take over, but Xichen ignored him. His eyes were still red. He didn’t seem responsive to anything around him. Nie Mingjue eventually sat down nearby, but said nothing. After Ruien joined him there, Wangji and Wei Wuxian also sat down a short distance away, idly talking on their own but their attention clearly on Lan Xichen and Meng Yao. Reluctantly, Jiang Cheng also sat down a short distance from Wei Wuxian.

After making the necessary arrangements, Jin Zixuan appeared in the hall again, this time with Jiang Yanli at his side. 

“Shijie!” cried Wei Wuxian, popping up to his feet.

“A-Xian,” Yanli greeted him warmly, but then turned her attention to Lan Xichen with a look of worry. 

“Zewu-jun,” Jin Zixuan said softly as he approached him. “I will not ask you to stop what you are doing for my brother, but if he is safe to be moved, I think you would both be more comfortable in a private chamber.”

Xichen seemed hesitant, as if somehow he might lose control of the situation if he moved in any way. Jiang Yanli observed him this way with great compassion for a moment before kneeling down beside him. 

“Zewu-jun,” she said gently. “The marble is cold and hard. It may slow his healing.”

There was gratitude in Lan Xichen’s eyes as he cautiously turned to look down at her. He seemed grateful that the couple’s concern was for healing Meng Yao, rather than getting him out of the way. Slowly, he nodded. 

“We can get a stretcher-“ Zixuan began to say.

“No,” Xichen murmured. “…please…”

So saying, as no one was able to deny him, he gathered the limp and petit Meng Yao gingerly into his arms. He followed behind Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli, who showed him to the chamber that had once belonged to Meng Yao anyway. 

With that done, Ruien felt the day’s tension leave his body all at once. He surprised Nie Mingjue, and subsequently himself, by softly thumping his head against his broad and comforting back in exhaustion and relief. At least until he noticed the collective gaze of Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng. He quickly righted himself and pretended that hadn’t just happened. 

As if intentionally designed to make his heart yearn for him even more, however, his beloved wordlessly reached back a hand and plopped it on top of his head, ruffling his hair slightly before getting up. Ruien felt himself blushing as he rose after him. 

“Clan Leader Nie,” said Lan Wangji as he approached him and bowed. “For tonight, perhaps it is best that we all rest. Tomorrow, we should discuss your trial strategy.”

Mingjue nodded. “Rest well.”

“You as well, Clan Leader.”

As Ruien left with Mingjue to find their own rooms for the night, he overheard Jiang Cheng ask Lan Wangji, “So just what in the hell were you and your brother fighting about at the Burial Mounds?” But he didn’t catch the answer. 

“Clan Leader,” Ruien asked softly as they walked. 

“Mm?”

He started to ask whether Lan Xichen would be all right, but he stopped himself, somehow feeling it wasn’t his place to ask. “…nothing,” he mumbled.

“Have you still not stopped being unbearable?!” Mingjue snarled, apparently back to his usual self. “Speak.”

“…aren’t you concerned about Zewu-jun?” Ruien supplied at last. “Whether or not Meng Yao survives…will it ever be possible to know how he really feels about Clan Leader Lan?”

Mingjue only scoffed disdainfully. “Is that a joke? Everyone but Lan Xichen already knows.”

Ruien blinked at his normally obtuse clan leader, feeling like quite a fool himself. After a moment of thought, however, he was forced to conclude that Mingjue was right. 

…

Meng Yao came to consciousness with difficulty. He had no idea how much time had passed, however the pain in his chest told him he must still be alive. The stiffness in the rest of his body told him that he had been in the same position for a long time. He took a moment to take stock of his situation. 

Xue Yang was dead. Jin Guangshan arrested. And Nie Mingjue still alive. He should be happy. After all, those were the best outcomes he could have hoped for. But gradually, he became aware of a soft noise above him, and all hope drained from his chest.

He slowly opened his eyes to see a very tired-looking Lan Xichen sobbing softly as he expended every spare scrap of energy attempting to fix the gaping hole in Meng Yao’s chest. Even though the stab wound was mostly to his lung, Meng Yao felt as if it had gone through his heart. What a fool he was. Whether or not he could ever make Lan Xichen happy, all this dancing around to try to protect him couldn’t possibly have resulted in a worse conclusion than this. 

As he lay there, Lan Xichen’s warm and comforting spiritual energy flowing through him, he resolved at last that he would stop trying to meddle in his own affairs. He would not try to reach out for him, but whatever Xichen decided, he would accept it. Not just this time, he realized, but so many times, Lan Xichen had saved his miserable life. If there was anyone that this life truly belonged to, it could only be Lan Xichen.

Xichen took a steadying breath and glanced up, realizing that Meng Yao was awake. “A-Yao…!” he said quickly, taking one hand from Meng Yao’s chest in order to touch his face worriedly. 

For a time, neither of them was able to speak. Meng Yao closed his eyes in soft contentment at the gentleness of Xichen’s touch on his cheek. He heard Xichen sob softly once more as he stroked Meng Yao’s face for some time.

“I love you,” Meng Yao said softly, but abruptly.

Xichen’s hand drew away from Meng Yao’s face and his eyes drooped down, uncertain. After a moment of staring at Meng Yao’s chest in dismay, Xichen cautiously glanced up at him. He seemed to want to believe him. But after being lied to and rejected so many times, of course it would be difficult. 

Meng Yao swallowed, preparing for something he found extremely difficult. Exposing his real self before the only one that mattered to him, and being willing to accept whatever reaction that elicited. “Da-ge was right. I was afraid to keep on living. Afraid I wouldn’t be able to bear being hated by you,” Meng Yao added, feeling his eyes start to sting again. “Or…the burden of trying to change for you.” He let out a soft, bitter laugh. “Lan Xichen…what do you say. Couldn’t you love someone better?”

But at this, Xichen only looked confused. “Who is ‘better’?” he asked innocently.

Though he was sure Xichen was just being kind, Meng Yao chuckled softly and played along with the game of thinking of someone better for him. “Let me see. There’s that young Clan Leader Jiang. He’s quite handsome, if a little rough around the edges.”

A hesitant, slightly sad smile crossed Xichen’s face. He pretended to think for a moment before returning his gaze to Meng Yao in order to politely shake his head. 

“Hm. What about that Lady Wen? I must admit I only met her once, but she seems both beautiful and strong. Her healing skills would also make her an invaluable wife,” Meng Yao continued idly. “And…she could give you heirs.”

Xichen smiled again and shook his head. “Succession in Gusu Lan Sect is not hereditary.”

“Ah, that’s right. Well then, what would you say to…Nie Huaisang? He is very fond of you. And few have quite as discerning an eye for art as he.”

A soft chuckle, and another shake of his head. “Huaisang is very sweet. But I don’t think so.”

“Well this is perplexing. It seems Er-ge is surprisingly particular,” said Meng Yao with a sigh. “Might I ask exactly what are the criteria for your making attachments? It might be easier to suggest someone with a bit more to go on.”

Lan Xichen’s smile slowly faded, and in fact he looked as if he might cry again. “I cannot say. I have only ever loved one person. If I knew why, perhaps I would not suffer so.”

Meng Yao very nearly did start to cry again at these words. He closed his eyes and tried to fight a wave of sadness and guilt. Slowly, he covered Lan Xichen’s hand resting over his chest with his own. As soon as he saw Xichen’s moved expression as he looked up toward him, Meng Yao realized that could be perceived as flirting and removed his hand. 

“Er-ge,” Meng Yao said with a half-smile. “There is yet another thing for which I must apologize to you. I fear…in all the excitement I have truly neglected my guqin practice. Assuming I survive this, though I imagine you will be busy yourself, I would be grateful if someone could play for me as I heal. This would be two birds with one stone for me. In addition to helping me remember my playing…there are…several old injuries that require attention as well.”

Xichen gasped softly. A glimmer of hope in the depths of his wooden brown eyes soon sparkled into a bright glow. He looked down at Meng Yao in disbelief and joy, wordlessly asking if he were certain. Meng Yao only demurely lowered his gaze with a tuck of his chin indicating soft agreement. But in truth, Xichen looked so beautiful at this moment that he feared his heart would burst from looking too long.

Xichen’s fingers tightened possessively over Meng Yao’s chest, and one hand came to rest over his heart, even though, in theory, that part was not injured. “This player may still be imperfect, but would he not suit?”

Meng Yao managed a soft chuckle. “Is the price for Zewu-jun’s guqin playing a stab wound to the chest? I should have paid it sooner.”

For the first time in a long time, Xichen smiled at him with genuine joy.

“Now. If you don’t mind my asking, Er-ge, I have been on tenterhooks since the Burial Mounds, as Clan Leader Jiang just reminded me. Exactly what did you and Hanguang-jun argue about?”

Xichen’s cheeks actually went dark red in moments. Meng Yao could be wrong, but he thought this was the most mortified he had ever seen him. “Oh. Well…”


	19. Twin Jades in Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lan Xichen explains his fight with Lan Wangji to Meng Yao. Kang Ruien attempts to make his way to Nie Mingjue's chamber, but encounters an unexpected foe.

Lan Xichen sighed reluctantly. He had no wish to expose one of his moments of greatest shame before someone he loved. But to a degree to which he himself was scarcely aware, he was very weak to the soft curiosity in Meng Yao’s shapely eyes.

After gazing at them until he felt a little lost, he blushed slightly, nodded and began to explain.

…

“Xiong-zhang,” said Wangji softly as he approached.

Pressing his hand against a cold, barren tree in a clearing in the Burial Mounds, Xichen didn’t hear his brother’s low, soft voice the first time, maybe not even the second. His head was still ringing with Meng Yao’s. 

“…he planned to have me assassinate you.”

Meng Yao had been about to assassinate Nie Mingjue. For the sake of pleasing Jin Guangshan. Even while suspecting some villainous and even homicidal intent on Meng Yao’s part, particularly after he was accepted by the Jin and became Jin Guangyao, of all people, Xichen never thought Meng Yao could take his hand to his sworn brother. To Da-ge. 

After everything that had happened between them. After Meng Yao had sworn so earnestly that he had killed those Nie myrmidons at Nightless City in order to save Mingjue’s life. After he had faked his own death in order to avoid Mingjue’s wrath, and thereafter blocked his qi and left him helpless on the battlefield. After Mingjue had given him so much. Even a piece of his heart. If he had stayed, Mingjue could have given him almost everything that Jin Guangshan could, lacking only in the small amount of prestige awarded to direct family members. To be willing to kill someone like that…was Meng Yao even human? Had Xichen ever known him at all?

But if this plan succeeded…if Meng Yao’s testimony was successfully used to convict Jin Guangshan of plotting murder, then…then…

“Xiong-zhang.”

“…what is it?” Xichen managed in a powerless voice.

Wangji hesitated. That was never a good sign with someone as hard-headed and sure of himself as he normally was. “I came to make sure you can return to the Cloud Recesses safely by yourself,” he said matter-of-factly.

Xichen’s gaze darted across the ground as he struggled to bring his mind into the present to understand what Wangji was saying. “By myself…?” he repeated.

Wangji merely nodded, and Xichen was forced to read the rest in his expression. Though to most people Wangji’s expression never changed, in the subtle tension between his brows, Xichen could see guilt and a fear of disappointing him. But the glint of his eyes and the firm set of his mouth spoke of determination, and even a small amount of pride. Seeing this expression only made Xichen more confused and even alarmed.

“Where are you planning to go?”

Wangji shook his head. “Not go. I’m staying. With Wei Ying.”

Anger and disbelief flared inside Xichen’s chest. At first he didn’t even know why. By the time he realized the true source of his feelings, however, it was too late. 

“You…do not have that right,” Xichen whispered, feeling his hands start to tremble. “You are a member of the Gusu Lan Sect. I know…Wangji, I understand. This Master Wei…he is special. But there is more at stake right now than your feelings.”

“Yes. Wei Ying’s life.”

“No…”

“And the lives of the Wen clan.”

“No!” Xichen barked in a dark voice sounding nothing like his own. “The whole cultivation world! Your sect…our sect depends on…” He raised a shaking hand to cover his eyes to try to control his anger. “I’m sorry, Wangji, but there are more reasons than just the Chief Cultivator’s disapproval for not wanting you near Wei Wuxian.”

He felt the tension rise in Wangji’s body in front of him. He used to find it very sweet, the way Wangji would only get up in arms on the issue of Wei Wuxian. But now, it was just another horrible difficulty tugging at Xichen’s heart. 

“…he won’t come to Gusu,” Wangji contended with soft determination. 

“I would not permit him even if he wanted to,” Xichen answered, though aware it would break Wangji’s heart to hear it out loud. 

Sure enough, fear and distress rose in Wangji’s eyes.

Xichen merely shook his head firmly. “It is too late. You know this too. A single glance is enough to see. Yin energy is consuming his body and heart, bit by bit.”

“Not yet,” Wangji hissed softly.

“His servant murdered Jin Zixun,” Xichen replied, his voice rising unintentionally with anger and fear on Wangji’s behalf. “With A-Yao and Jin Zixuan standing right in front of him, totally helpless to stop it-“

“I can help him,” Wangji barked with unusual strength to his voice.

This stopped Xichen, but not because he was surprised Wangji thought he could protect Wei Wuxian from his inevitable fate. It was because he remembered he had once said almost exactly the same thing. In a memory he had thought was a dream, but now realized it couldn’t be. Was he just as wrong then? Was he just as bound to be caught up in the wild, dark machinations of someone he simply couldn’t bear to be without?

Xichen slowly, numbly shook his head. “I won’t let you throw away your life for him,” he whispered softly.

“My life is with him,” Wangji said, with such calm and certainty that it struck Xichen’s heart with both pain and pride. Truly, his brother was talented, courageous and honorable, a paragon in every way, and probably the person Xichen respected most in the world. Except in who he let rule his heart.

He shook his head with a heavy sigh of frustration. “Wangji, he…! He doesn’t even…!”

Xichen abruptly held back from finishing his sentence as he saw the flicker of pain and dread over Wangji’s face. Wangji looked away with an expression stricken with lament. He knew. He knew what Xichen was about to say. That Wei Wuxian didn’t feel the same way he did. 

“…it doesn’t matter,” Wangji murmured.

“But being around him will only cause you pain!” Xichen cried. 

“Nothing is certain,” Wangji replied, amazingly still calm. And then to Xichen’s shock, with a note of concern in his voice, he asked, “Xiong-zhang. Are you still talking about me?”

Xichen recoiled, feeling as if he had been struck. “W-who else would I…?”

Wangji’s expression intensified, and though mostly with worry, Xichen felt admonished by his gaze then. They both knew exactly who he meant, after all. For a time, Xichen was trapped in his own thoughts again, unable to come up with any answer. Unfortunately, and to his own eternal shame, Wangji hit the nail on the head a little too hard.

“…you’re inventing reasons to be angry with me, because you can’t forgive him.”

Xichen’s eyes widened. He felt as angry and hurt as if Wangji had just punched him in the stomach. “You…how could you say that? Wangji! When…have I ever put my own feelings ahead of yours?!”

Wangji shook his head. “Not your choice. He took your feelings and twisted them. He is the one you meant. He is the one who is heartless-“

Before Xichen could think, the spiritual energy had already shot from his hand. Wangji’s eyes briefly shut tight with the impact of Xichen’s strike, and then with the tree behind him, which he struck so hard its truck instantly shattered. Wangji stumbled, trying to keep on his feet. Someone with any less cultivation than he would have had their chest caved in at the very least. He coughed, a slim trail of blood emerging from his lips, but he stayed on his feet.

Xichen felt the blood drain from his face. He had struck him. And not just lightly. He had never struck anyone in anger in his life, and of course he would never think to harm his own brother. He suddenly felt as if he were in someone else’s body. Nothing in front of him seemed fully connected to reality. The guilt was so much he could hardly bear to remain standing.

And yet, and this feeling only made the guilt even worse, there was a small part of him that defended his anger. Wangji was wrong. So was the whole world. Even Xichen himself, at times. Meng Yao might be many things, but heartless was not one of them. 

It took Wangji a moment to collect himself enough to speak, but when he did, to Xichen’s great relief, he did not sound either upset or in much pain. “Xiong-zhang. Let’s go back.”

Xichen didn’t know what to say. He felt like a monster for hitting Wangji. Nothing he could say could make up for that, so he only halfheartedly mumbled, “Wangji. I’m sorry.”

Wangji walked up to him, shaking his head in dismissal. He placed a hand on Xichen’s shoulder and guided him away, never mentioning the incident again.

…

But Xichen had not given voice to the latter part of this story. He was about to explain exactly what Wangji had said just before Xichen snapped, but his heart left him as he contemplated saying those words aloud before the one person who might be even more hurt by them than himself.

In his abrupt silence, though, Meng Yao seemed to have put the pieces together. He watched Xichen with soft pity, even though Xichen expected him to take this as another blow to his already battered ego. Instead, a delicate hand crossed in front of Xichen’s eyes. His skin tingled at the soft, gentle touch against his cheek, and he could not help the hope from rising in his eyes as he met Meng Yao’s gaze. 

Meng Yao seemed to come to his senses after a moment and shyly withdrew his hand, lowering his gaze again. Xichen’s heart ached at the distance once again placed between them. And yet the way Meng Yao had touched him so naturally just now, with such care in his eyes, as if at least for that moment he forgot his own pain and insecurity in an effort to ease Xichen’s suffering, made the hope still linger in his chest. 

“A-Yao,” Xichen murmured softly, though he wasn’t sure what he meant to say after that.

A soft, self-deprecating smile met Meng Yao’s pretty face. Xichen’s heart rate increased. How was it that he seemed more ethereal and fragile every time he saw him? 

He slowly realized – amazed he hadn’t noticed earlier – that the reason Meng Yao’s eyes seemed larger and darker right now was that his cheeks were sunken and pale. He had been not only extremely light, but his bones jutted out all over when Xichen had carried him just now. Even though Xichen had been constantly feeding him spiritual energy for some time, he was still weak and desperately thin, apparently from prolonged malnutrition and lack of sunlight. But in the Cloud Recesses, with its strict diet and even stricter cultivation regimen, who could become so wasted away like this?

And then those large eyes became even more beautiful and pitiful as dewdrops formed beneath his long eyelashes. Xichen could have imagined it, but at that moment, he thought Meng Yao looked heartbroken and even slightly afraid. 

After a steadying breath, Meng Yao said softly, “I do want to make it clear, Xichen…that I am determined never to lie, or conceal truths from you, ever again. And…that anything I have to give, you should already consider yours.”

Xichen didn’t exactly follow, but his heart pounded at these words. Meng Yao’s purposeful use of Xichen’s courtesy name, rather than the affectionate “Er-ge” that he was used to, was equally painful and yet somehow slightly embarrassing. He knew he was older than Meng Yao, but he had always had the sense that this beautiful person was more world-weary than he, and hearing his courtesy name made him feel strangely vulnerable before him. The feeling was a little frightening, but he also felt he wanted more of it. 

“What do you mean by ‘anything you have to give’?” Xichen asked softly.

Meng Yao shrugged with a sad smile. “I may not have much to offer, it’s true. But my time and effort, my mind, what meager strength I can offer, they will always be yours whenever you need them.” He paused as his smile faded and the fear and even despair returned to his eyes. “And though it may not be meaningful anymore…anything else you may want from me…whether or not it’s any time in the near future, or if you change your mind later…”

As he seemed to be having difficulty, Xichen pressed gently, “A-Yao…?”

Meng Yao’s eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks as he struggled to get the words out. “Whether…love,” he whispered. “Or friendship…or…even just a physical relationship…anything. Anything you desire from me…you need not ask, you already have it.”

Even though part of him felt an inescapable thrill of happiness at these words, Xichen felt twisted inside. He lowered his gaze, gently shaking his head. “That would be no different from before,” he murmured.

A flicker of agony crossed over Meng Yao’s face. He nodded, but all the light had left his eyes. He seemed to take this as a rejection from Xichen. He clearly didn’t understand.

Xichen paused as he tried to find the right words to explain. “I also doubted you,” he whispered. “That is also something I swore I would never do.” He took a deep breath, and let out a soft sigh. “I will never distrust your words again. That much I will promise. But as for your feelings…when you make such offers to me, it seems as though you are still hiding from me. I don’t know what you really want.”

Meng Yao took this in for a moment, uncertain. Though his expression didn’t change, a tear slipped down his cheek. “If I were to say what I really wanted…Er-ge is so kind…that I fear…he would agree even if he felt only pity for me.”

Xichen struggled to cope with this soft confession. “…I have never once pitied you,” he whispered, still slightly in shock.

Meng Yao too looked somewhat surprised. But he also knew that Xichen was incapable of lying about such things. He searched his expression even so. “But…you accept that I am a pitiful creature,” Meng Yao insisted with a bitter smile. “Even at my most glorious, I was still little more than a servant, and behind closed doors, to anyone who cared to mention me, I would never be more than a son of a whore.”

“…A-Yao…what can I have done to make you believe any of those things mattered to me?”

Meng Yao’s large, black eyes went wide as this realization struck him. He frowned down at the bed sheets in front of him for a moment, searching his memory, seeming at a loss. But surely he would come to the inescapable conclusion that Xichen had just implied, because it was true. Though inebriated and not entirely himself, Xichen had once tried to convince him of this fact. As far as he was concerned, Meng Yao’s past made him strong and unique. The pain he had felt from it deserved empathy, but it only made him more beautiful and admirable, and in fact was simply one of many reasons that Xichen loved him with his entire soul. Xichen had never once felt himself above Meng Yao in anything.

That said, Meng Yao was beginning to look a little pitiful now, almost like an abandoned puppy. This painful and cautiously hopeful expression on his face also made Xichen’s heart ache for him. “Oh..” he managed eventually.

“…so then, what you actually want…will you share it with me?” Xichen urged him gently.

Meng Yao curled his fingers into the sheets in quiet desperation. He still seemed uncertain for a moment. Cautiously, his gaze shifted over to Xichen’s hands on the bed. He looked at them in admiration for some time before his eyes slowly moved up his body as if appreciating every inch of it before hesitantly meeting his eyes. Meng Yao’s lips parted, but at first no sound emerged.

“If…there is any true benevolence in this world…” he whispered, and another tear ran down his cheek as he trembled with fear at voicing these feelings. “And if even a creature as flawed as I can be permitted one desire…then I want…Lan Xichen.” 

Xichen’s heart filled with joy and he could not help but smile. He even laughed a little, though his own eyes were beginning to sting. “There is quite a lot of me, I’m afraid. Which part do you want?”

Meng Yao actually sobbed, shutting his eyes tightly and hunching in on himself. But he struggled to continue, “Hands…to hold…to play the guqin, and teach me…”

Xichen reached out and grasped Meng Yao’s hand in his own, squeezing down to reassure him. “Very well. You have them. What else?”

Meng Yao sobbed again. “Eyes…that twinkle when you smile…”

Xichen chuckled. “I didn’t know they do that. But you may have them. And then?”

“Arms…to hold me…”

“Yes.”

“Breath…heartbeat…thoughts…passions…”

Xichen smiled, but his heart was aching. He wished badly that Meng Yao would get to the part he hoped he would say. “They are all yours. And?”

Meng Yao covered his face with his free hand and sobbed loudly, like a child. “Kisses…making love…caresses…affection…a room to share every day…”

Finally Xichen couldn’t endure any longer and clasped Meng Yao’s face in both hands. Though he still had no confidence in these abilities, he gave in to the constant desire burning inside him and pressed his lips to Meng Yao’s. The beautiful creature in his arms trembled and let out soft noises of distress against his lips. When he parted only an inch from him in order to meet his heated gaze, Meng Yao’s eyes looked more beautiful than ever, softly fluttering and moist and just a hair’s breadth away from his own. 

Xichen smiled, but as he blinked he felt hot tears of happiness and some lingering anxiety running down his cheeks. Meng Yao was so very dear to him, in fact he had always been, that the thought of finally obtaining his heart also made him deeply afraid of losing it. He pressed his forehead to Meng Yao’s, as if he could feel Meng Yao’s thoughts if he tried hard enough.

“This time you won’t let me think it’s a dream, will you?” he murmured softly, caressing Meng Yao’s cheek with his fingertips.

Meng Yao’s eyes fluttered closed at his touch, and yet another tear ran down his cheek. His own hands rose to clasp Xichen’s wrists tightly, almost as if afraid he might fly away. But then Xichen panicked slightly as Meng Yao’s crying intensified. 

He sobbed and cried messy tears with an unguarded and surprisingly unattractive expression, which nonetheless won even more of Xichen’s heart. He alternately caressed and tightly squeezed Xichen’s hands as he struggled to speak. 

“I can’t convince you of anything. I can’t even believe it’s not a dream,” he sobbed with a broken voice.

Xichen couldn’t bear this. He lovingly kissed away Meng Yao’s tears, his heart aching at the feeling of closeness from Meng Yao’s eyelashes fluttering against his lips, and the salty taste of his tears. He pulled him in close, letting Meng Yao’s small body sink into the valley of his arms and feeling more content than he ever had in his life.

That day, the two only exchanged a few more words about trivial things before the exhausted Meng Yao fell into a deep sleep in Xichen’s arms. Xichen couldn’t bear to extricate the precious bundle from his arms, so he meditated for hours while still feeding Meng Yao spiritual energy and glowing in his own foolish happiness. When Meng Yao woke, Xichen could not be dissuaded from playing guqin for him, which made Meng Yao both cry and smile. And from that day on, when Xichen’s form fell within his gaze, Meng Yao was hardly known to do anything but smile a softly complicated smile. 

…

Kang Ruien had had a little clan business left to deal with from the previous day, so before joining Nie Mingjue in his private chamber at Carp Tower that evening, he had stopped at the scribe’s room in order to fill in a few documents. He realized it was already twilight by the time he finished, and hurried his steps slightly as he returned toward where Nie Mingjue was. 

Though Ruien’s cultivation was not high, his martial arts were quite good. Normally, he could sense an opponent coming with only the slightest disturbance. Unfortunately, at this hour, his vision was at its poorest. Most things on his left side were a total blur. With his mind occupied with how passionately Mingjue might hold him tonight, he was not at all expecting a figure to approach from out of the shadows, bearing a burlap bag. 

With a flurry of movement, suddenly everything went dark. He gasped, smelling hessian. But then there was a sharp pain at the back of his head, and after that, nothing.


	20. Caught Mouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nie Mingjue sets up his trial strategy, while Ruien gets a shocking blast from the past.
> 
> Warning: mentions of animal abuse / gore.

Mingjue expected Kang Ruien to come and see him that night. They hadn’t made any promises, but the way he had leaned against him like that, Mingjue was sure at the time that meant he wanted comfort. He had looked forward to giving it to him. But Ruien didn’t come that night, even though Mingjue waited until near midnight, pretending to polish his armor. He thought about going to see him instead, but thought with a flicker of guilt that maybe Ruien hadn’t come because he was still healing, and Mingjue’s lovemaking had been too hard on him. With a self-deprecating sigh, he blew out his candle and went to sleep.

The next morning, he went directly to check on Meng Yao. The little weasel looked far too happy to have a hole in his chest, with Xichen also smiling a bit too much as he played his guqin beside him. Mingjue tried to be happy for them, but he just felt irritated and jealous in spite of himself. 

“Have you come to discuss your trial strategy, Da-ge?” asked Xichen with a blithe smile.

Though in truth he had come to see whether Meng Yao was all right, Mingjue grumbled something unintelligible and merely sat down a good distance away from them, folding his arms. 

“Xue Yang’s death is actually quite a boon for us,” Meng Yao said absently. “I expected he would either be brought as witness against us or be used to assassinate one of us. Well, me.”

“Could he have been?” Xichen asked worriedly. “Brought as witness against your story, I mean.”

Given Meng Yao’s skill at telling people what they wanted to hear, Mingjue expected a breezy denial. But surprisingly, Meng Yao looked deep in thought. When he eventually lifted his head with a deep breath, he said, “One thing I learned early on about my father. If he feels it is in his best interest to keep quiet about something, he will. He is not to be underestimated in that regard.”

Mingjue frowned at him. “Speak plainly,” he grunted.

Meng Yao nodded. “What I mean to say is…I cannot say for certain how he is with other servants, but at least with me, if he thought I understood what was expected of me, he would not put it into words.”

Xichen turned a concerned expression toward Meng Yao on the bed. “You mean…”

“Mm,” Meng Yao assented softly. “Xue Yang, and likely many others, could attest that Jin Guangshan never asked me directly to do anything more complex or devious than peel a grape for him.”

This admission rather put the fire out of both Xichen and Mingjue, who had both assumed that Jin Guangshan had been relatively open in his villainy with his own son, and collaborator. 

“For example,” Xichen offered softly. “Could you tell us how he might…imply that you should do something untoward?”

Meng Yao’s gaze turned briefly skyward as he recalled, word for word one of their conversations, and even lightly imitating Guangshan’s overbearing manner. “ ‘I hear Clan Leader Nie’s anger is getting under control.’ ‘Yes. It is most welcome news.’ ‘Hmph. So then your little instrument might prove unnecessary.’ ‘Perhaps. And if so, I will have to find other ways to be of service to him.’ ‘Well…see that you do.’”

Both elder cultivators sat in stunned silence for some time following this performance, which had eerie echoes of both Jin Guangshan and Jin Guangyao from not so long ago. Mingjue exchanged a glance with Xichen. 

“Ah. Perhaps I should explain. I was planning to assassinate you with a Dongying Demonic Melody,” Meng Yao said, raising his hand and examining the small bump remaining from when he broke his thumb. “Thus, paradoxically, your attempted assault on my chastity may have actually saved your life, Da-ge,” he added, his eyes cast down and his face unusually lacking much expression.

“Lucky,” Mingjue growled, without a hint of warmth.

“A-Yao…forgive me, what sort of melody did you say?” Xichen asked, apparently still interested in the details.

Meng Yao hesitated for a moment. But to Mingjue’s surprise, with a sober expression, he opened his mouth and revealed something that he didn’t need to, and would surely only harm his relationship with Xichen. “Four or five times, in the past…I snuck into the Forbidden Library in the Cloud Recesses. I wouldn’t be confident to be tested, but I think I’ve memorized almost every forbidden cultivation technique recorded there. Oh. And a score of Dongying Demonic Music will be missing a page, which I destroyed. My apologies.”

Xichen seemed quite lost for a moment, turning his gaze up in thought for a time and seemingly unable to gather himself at first.

But while Xichen’s concern seemed to be on the facts of his words, Mingjue was taken aback not only by the words themselves, but by the forlorn expression tugging at Meng Yao’s face even as he watched Xichen and therefore knew he wasn’t looking his way. And as Mingjue watched, almost like a magic trick, the trace of pain in Meng Yao’s face vanished as soon as Xichen’s gaze turned back toward him. He was…hiding his pain from him? But why? Wouldn’t he do anything to gain Xichen’s sympathy?

“And…you took nothing else?” Xichen asked Meng Yao, looking rather resigned. 

Meng Yao shook his head. “I only destroyed the page since it would serve as evidence. And might even incriminate Er-ge, or someone else in the Cloud Recesses.”

“Nh. Considerate of you,” Mingjue couldn’t help from grumbling bitterly. 

Meng Yao’s only reaction was a slight increase in tension between his brows. It was a subtle expression, restrained, barely noticeable, and beautiful of course because he always was. One thing it wasn’t was anger. Somehow Mingjue’s words had hit home, and Meng Yao couldn’t be angry. Mingjue gasped softly at the ripple of unpleasant feeling that ran through his chest as he watched that expression. He could hardly believe himself. Was he really feeling guilty toward this treacherous snake?

Briefly closing his eyes, Meng Yao composed himself and began again, “Though the details of the plot were my own design, every step was intimated by my father. This is little enough proof, I know. All I can do is state what I understood to be his intentions, and explain in detail his reactions which brought me to those conclusions.”

“But you are certain of what he meant?” Xichen pressed gently.

The pretty Meng Yao let out a soft laugh. Then a sudden gasp. “Ah. The whores.”

“…excuse me?” Mingjue grunted with an incredulous scowl.

But Meng Yao had already turned away from him, reaching for paper and a brush. He wrote neatly but quickly, blew on the page he had written, folded it, and handed it to Mingjue. 

“Send someone, or go yourself if you can endure it,” Meng Yao added with a mischievous smirk. “To the Peach Blossom Tea House. Say nothing of Clan Leader Jin’s condition, or the trial. Say that he is in need of comfort and ask for those girls specifically. Offer any price to bring them to Carp Tower immediately.”

Mingjue made a face as he realized what Meng Yao was asking him to do. He dubiously took a look at the note Meng Yao had handed him, and in addition to the names of obvious prostitute pseudonyms was an intimate note in Jin Guangshan’s style, and signed in his name. He almost vomited as he read the flowery, romantic language.

“Is your head constantly full of this trash?!” Mingjue demanded in a bellow to hide his embarrassment as he snapped the note back into its fold.

“Please. I flatter myself that I have at least slightly better taste than my father,” Meng Yao responded with a bitter raise of his brow. 

Unfortunately, it was only now, as he was rather dazzled by this exchange, that Nie Mingjue finally came to realize one of the reasons for his complex feelings for Meng Yao. He had always admired his intelligence and beauty of course. But only now, as he freely exposed his dark side, did Mingjue realize, that might have been the main thing he found so attractive about him to begin with. It was like the odd seduction of looking into a bonfire, so tempting to reach out and get just a little too close. 

Mingjue took in a sharp breath as Meng Yao’s eyes met his with a questioning look at his continued silence. 

“I’m going then!” he snapped, sweeping from the room without another word. 

It was actually surprisingly easy to get all of the girls on the list to come to Carp Tower. They had apparently done so individually many times before, and they seemed to presume that Madam Jin must be out of town, so Jin Guangshan was just having himself a rather decadent party. Mingjue obeyed Meng Yao’s instructions and told them nothing, silently letting them go on thinking that. 

He arranged with Jin Zixuan to get them a pavilion of their own to stay in where they wouldn’t be disturbed, and set some loyal Nie myrmidons to guard it. And so Mingjue constructed his trial strategy, and began to feel both confident about his chances and disgusted by Jin Guangshan.

Evening came. Somehow still there was no sign of Ruien. Anxiety was starting to creep up Mingjue’s chest. This was not just unusual behavior. For as long as he could remember, Ruien had never even been gone for a few hours without permission. 

He started to look in any place he could think of that Ruien might be. He asked his myrmidons. More worryingly, none of them reported seeing Ruien any time after yesterday evening. Mingjue became increasingly desperate, asking anyone he thought might have reason to know where he was. And finally, with nowhere else to turn, he asked Jin Zixuan.

“Your deputy?” asked Zixuan with worry, exchanging a few soft words with his wife as he handed their son back to her. Mingjue seemed to have caught them during some family time, and he felt even more mortified for asking. “And you’ve already searched Carp Tower?”

Mingjue nodded grimly.

Zixuan sighed. But soon enough, he nodded as well. “Then we must send out a search party.”

Mingjue blinked in shock. He expected to need to convince him. “Are you s-“ he started to ask, but Zixuan had already called for a servant to convey his orders.

“We’ll set up a grid and start the search within Carp Tower again just to be safe,” Zixuan said, speaking half to Mingjue and half to the servant. “In the meantime we should make some estimations about how far he could have gone since he has been missing, whether or not he left on his own power. We’ll move out in concentric circles in a radius based on that.”

“You…” Mingjue muttered, dumbfounded. “…take to this quite naturally, don’t you?”

“Take to what?” Zixuan asked with a raised brow, looking genuinely both uncomprehending and unconcerned about what Mingjue was talking about.

Mingjue let out a soft scoff in spite of himself. Of course. Jin Zixuan had been arrogant ever since he was a little kid. He would take to leadership like a duck to water. He probably wasn’t even aware of when he was doing it.

“Nothing,” Mingjue muttered. “I’ll have my myrmidons coordinate with yours.”

Zixuan nodded. “Don’t worry. He’s one injured myrmidon. He can’t have gone far.”

…

Ruien’s world stung awake with a sharp pain in the side of his head. He squinted through it and tried to open his eyes to see some of his surroundings. But his eyes were covered loosely by a strip of burlap. He could see flickering torchlight, and he could tell he was someplace underground, but little beyond that. He could tell that his hands were bound above his head and he was suspended with his feet lightly touching the earth.

“Who are you…?” he croaked out in a hoarse voice. He realized he must have been unconscious for some time. Immediately worry thrummed in his chest about how Mingjue must feel to find him gone. Or had something happened to him too?!

An irritable sigh. And then, like being flung back into the past, a sound Kang Ruien had not heard for twelve years. “I told you,” came a thick, Sogdian voice. Ruien’s heart felt torn from his chest by the sound. “It can’t be him. He looks like a Han. Doesn’t even look handsome enough to tempt another man.”

Looks Han…tempt a man… Ruien’s mind scrambled to put the long lost words together to work out what was happening to him. Sogdians, and more than one, they had taken him. Why? Looks Han…they took him on purpose. They were looking for another Sogdian, or at least a half who could be mistaken for one. Tempt a man… 

Ruien’s heart dropped like a stone as he put the last piece together. If news of Nie Mingjue taking a half-Sogdian lover reached his old enemies in Sogdia…and they decided to take this moment when he seemed most vulnerable to hit him where it hurt… 

In other words, they were going to ransom him. At best. At worst, attempt to brainwash him and corrupt him for their purposes, turning him into a spy. Ruien sighed. He really didn’t need this.

“No. That’s him,” came a distantly familiar voice. 

Ruien felt a cold shiver run up his spine. He was sure he knew that voice. Where did he know it from? It was so long ago, everything before he met Mingjue just a traumatic blur. He knew this voice, and it scared him. Who was it?

“I know my own best friend.”

Ah…Dariush. 

Ruien felt his hope of getting out of this unscathed slowly drain away, as a particular memory surfaced in his mind. A bony, haggard-faced boy, crooking his finger to beckon young Ruien closer. In his innocence, Ruien hadn’t understood. Dariush was so much taller and stronger at the time, and of course he was full Sogdian, so Ruien couldn’t help but admire him. So at first, the sense of horror didn’t reach him.

First Ruien heard a pathetic squeaking. He hesitated to draw closer.

“Hurry, hurry!” Dariush had urged him. “It’s almost gone already.”

Ruien leaned down to see what Dariush was trying to show him. He was shocked by the amount of red on the ground. And in the middle, a white, wiggling object, stained in at least four placed with vicious red. It was the small wiggling object that was squeaking so pitifully.

“Doesn’t it look weird without any legs?” Dariush asked with glee.

Only with this clue did Ruien finally realize that the small white object was, or had once been, a field mouse. 

Ruien felt a little ill as he imagined what a boy like that might grow up to do to human beings. And yet he knew, even as a child, what gave Dariush the most pleasure. He would not give it to him.

“If you’re going to kill me, please don’t waste time,” Ruien said, struggling to recall enough Sogdian to make his point. “Nothing could be easier. At your leisure.”

Dariush chuckled. Ruien heard the sound of heavy boots walking one by one over a stone floor, closer and closer. The torch lights became obscured, as Ruien caught the scent of horse hair and wild grass. And then body heat, as Dariush drew ever closer to his bound and helpless body. 

“What…and have no fun at all?” Dariush asked him with a gleeful laugh he well remembered. 

“You won’t be able to use me. So killing is the best way,” Ruien replied in an even tone.

“I could never kill you, Ruien!” Dariush protested with soft, false innocence. “But then, I’m sentimental. Unlike my friends here. I bet them that your presence could lure Nie Mingjue into sticking his neck right in the path of our cutlasses. I still think so. And if you can, then there’s no reason to kill you. But if not, well…heh…hey. Do you remember what I used to like to do to mice around the village?”


	21. Drowned Mouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mingjue comes for Ruien, with the help of a certain Master of Demonic Cultivation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: a scene of torture (drowning, not fatal), implied violence

Mingjue felt sick. Every moment that the search continued, his stomach felt more and more twisted. He could tell he was sweating, but his skin felt cold. He wasn’t thinking about the state Ruien might be in. Only once, a single image had floated up in his mind of Ruien’s lifeless body stretched out on cold stone, as Mingjue’s father had been before he was cremated. It was an image that gave him nightmares for years afterward. Since that one thought popped into his head, he had forced his mind to occupy itself with anything else.

Hours passed and Carp Tower was turned upside-down, but to no avail. The other clan leaders had been expecting the trial proceedings to begin by now. All were growing restless, not only at the delay, but also an invasion of their privacy to conduct the search. 

“Clan Leader,” said a Jin servant quietly to Jin Zixuan, as Nie Mingjue was tiredly standing next to him and trying to decide what to do next. “There was a fight outside the cell of Jin Guangshan.”

Nie Mingjue looked up too, as Jin Zixuan grew pale and demanded, “What kind of fight? Who was involved?”

“Myrmidons from the Jin and Nie clans, Clan Leader. The stories of the two groups do not match, all that is clear is that many Jin myrmidons were injured.”

Mingjue scoffed, quietly pleased, though not at all surprised, that the Jin myrmidons were no match for his own.

Jin Zixuan sighed exhaustedly. “…and my father?”

“Still secure. However, there are frequent complaints about the delay of the trial from many of the other clan leaders.”

Mingjue rumbled out a bitter noise at the shallow and weak-willed nature of those around him, but it only took him moments to realize that the situation was worse than he had been thinking. The longer this process went on, the less credible his claim would appear. As the other clan leaders were no doubt aware, he had no right to delay justice for the sake of a personal concern.

Jin Zixuan looked similarly troubled. He nodded to the servant. “Thank you. I will send out a message butterfly soon to assuage their concerns.”

He turned to Nie Mingjue. “…Clan Leader Nie. I do not believe I can delay this process much longer. Do you feel prepared to try my father while Kang Ruien is still missing?”

Nie Mingjue could not answer. As this brutal day wore on, he became more and more resentful toward Jin Guangshan, and yet less and less interested in actually bringing him to justice. He wouldn’t mind running a sword through him if given the opportunity, but it was repugnant to him that Jin Guangshan’s convenience should take priority over Ruien’s safety. 

He was still silent as a myrmidon hurriedly approached Jin Zixuan with a note, breathlessly bowing and handing it to him. Zixuan unfolded it and read, and his expression intensified.

“Clan Leader Nie…our search is over.”

Jin Zixuan grimly handed Mingjue a single, sloppily written note on an unfamiliar type of rough paper, with a distantly familiar smell of horses. Mingjue snatched it up and quickly read.

‘Abandoned temple Langya City outside.  
Nie Mingjue does not come today, he dies.  
Nie Mingjue does not come alone, he dies.  
Bring weapons, he dies.’

The slightly odd grammar and some awkwardly shaped characters indicated an author not confident with Chinese. This, together with the familiar smell, triggered Mingjue’s memory. His hand curled around the paper as he realized he knew who had taken Ruien. 

He whirled without a word to head straight for Langya City, barely impeded by Jin Zixuan attempting to stop him. Fortunately for Jin Zixuan, Lan Xichen also arrived at that moment. 

“Zewu-jun, please stop him!” Zixuan said.

Xichen shot a look at Mingjue’s face as he passed and gathered that he was set on doing something reckless. He quickly flew to block his path, though wearing a kind expression. Mingjue did stop, mostly out of guilt toward his part in Lan Xichen’s suffering of late, but the happy aura around this man, who had been reunited with the one he loved, only bore deeper into Mingjue’s pain and anger.

“Move,” Mingjue snarled. “Or I’m going through you, Xichen.”

Xichen’s expression didn’t change in the slightest, despite Mingjue’s threat. “Perhaps if you told me where you were going, I wouldn’t stop you.”

“He must not go, Zewu-jun!” said Jin Zixuan, hurriedly approaching. “We received a ransom note, only…it doesn’t ask for anything! Just Clan Leader Nie himself, unarmed. It is obviously a trap!”

“It’s not a trap, boy,” Mingjue snapped, even though in reality they were not far apart in age. “Those are the terms.” He slowly turned his great body to glower over Jin Zixuan’s small, glittering frame like a kraken preparing to swallow a fishing boat. “Is Clan Leader Jin suggesting that, without a weapon, or even without cultivation, I could be beaten by a disorganized, barbaric, in-bred, cowardly rabble of horse-mongers?”

Though clearly intimidated, Zixuan fought his own instincts to back down before the elder, much larger and much more powerful cultivator. He took a steadying breath. “Albeit he was injured,” he began softly. “They took an experienced myrmidon from the heart of Carp Tower without leaving anyone the wiser. They obviously know him, and know you. How confident are you that they don’t have a plan to deal with your strength? Confident enough to bet Kang Ruien’s life on it?”

Mingjue wavered, feeling his head start to spin at the thought that his own arrogance might lead to Ruien’s death. But as he considered the alternative, he shook himself like a dog and angrily roared back, “Well what do you suggest?! If I bring help, they’ll kill him!”

Lan Xichen nodded. “Agreed. The risk is too great for you not to go alone. But that does not mean we cannot be with you.”

…

Ruien had taken to letting his mind wander as Dariush stripped the clothes from his body and began sizing up different areas, clearly fantasizing about cutting into him. Even though the anxiety filling his chest only grew greater as he imagined what Nie Mingjue would do if he found Ruien in pieces, he knew nothing could change what was happening now. He set himself adrift in his imagination and thought of the most pleasant moment in his memory.

It was a cold winter morning, when the brisk sunlight cut most beautifully through the early morning mist in Qinghe. He was sunk deep, deep into comfort as he lay in the circle of Mingjue’s great arms, both of them naked but wrapped up in heavy winter blankets over the soft silk sheets. Though Mingjue’s eyes were closed, and he might not even have been fully awake, he was moving his large, comforting fingers lightly over Ruien’s forehead and through his hair. At the time, Ruien had felt so fearful at his own happiness that he secretly cried a little. But thinking back on it now, he was awash with warmth and love for Mingjue.

“Hey!” a sudden slap across his face drew Ruien from his reverie. “No sleeping!” Dariush let out an odd laugh, but Ruien was still blindfolded and couldn’t see him. “Ah…I know. Let’s see how long the little mouse can hold his breath.”

“Dariush…I don’t think-“ said another Sogdian.

“You don’t think at all!” Dariush barked back. “It doesn’t matter. If he’s a little waterlogged, he’s still a hostage.” And then he laughed again.

Ruien heard the sounds of water being poured into a metal pan. Two men grabbed him and freed his hands, finally allowing blood flow back into them. A feeling of pins and needles preceded sharp pains through his shoulders and wrists from the way he had been hanging from them. But he didn’t have long to worry about that, as the two behind him kicked his feet out from under him and another – Dariush – grasped his hair, forcing his head down.

“Does it feel good? Being a traitor cut-sleeve who warms the enemy’s bed?” Dariush asked him, very close to his ear. 

Ruien took a breath to carefully form his words. “…go fuck a horse.”

Dariush scoffed slightly. He hadn’t liked that. The next thing Ruien knew, his head was forced down into the cold water. Momentarily, the cool water relieved a headache he hadn’t realized he had, and spared his ears from the harsh voices. But he hadn’t taken a proper breath. With the added anxiety of his situation, in moments, his lungs were screaming. 

Ruien didn’t want to give Dariush the satisfaction of showing his suffering, but his body thrashed against his will in desperation to find air. When his ears were free, he caught the sound of Dariush’s laughter above his own gurgling and roiling. When his panic reached its height, mercifully he was lifted up. He gasped in air, choking out the water he had nearly inhaled and losing all the strength in his body. The hands of the two men behind him held him up by his arms and shoulders, while Dariush held up his limp head. The water ran down his bare skin, making him shiver.

“I thought you’d be used to holding your breath,” Dariush said softly, with the sound of a grin in his voice. “That brute looks like the type to hold someone down when they’re giving him head. Ha ha ha!”  
.  
This time, Ruien didn’t answer. He knew the taunt was beneath his notice, and if he were to get through this, he must not reveal that anything bothered him. Dariush took pleasure from others’ pain. But the more he got, the more he wanted. If Ruien screamed once, Dariush would likely be unable to stop himself from killing him. He had to think of something else. Be somewhere else.

“Got your breath back? Good,” whispered Dariush.

He was forced down again. The water enveloped his head, rushed against his ears. He was still. He was far away. 

Mingjue was kissing him. Quite often, Mingjue would let Ruien take the lead, particularly when they were kissing. Some part of him still seemed uncertain. So each time Ruien kissed him, he sought to reassure him, to convince him with his own affection that Mingjue could be free with his heart.

Dariush yanked his head up. Ruien coughed and gasped, but almost immediately let the strength drain from his body in order to hide his reactions. Dariush lifted his head, seeming to come in close to examine his expression. 

“Pathetic. Are you that much of a dead fish when he fucks you? Try again.”

Again he went down. And went elsewhere.

They were riding through one of Qinghe’s only grasslands. Mingjue had brought his myrmidons here to practice archery. It was one of the few areas in which Mingjue was open in his praise of Ruien. He caught Ruien’s eye and nodded toward a tree that would serve as a target. Ruien carefully held back his desire to smile.

He followed Mingjue on his own horse, drawing up just behind him to prepare for a high-speed run past the target. They both squeezed their horses’ flanks, notched an arrow to their bows. They quickly picked up speed. Faster and faster, his horse chased after Mingjue’s huge battle stallion. Their horses’ hearts pounded and hooves hit the ground in unison. Mingjue’s huge back stretched as he strung his bow. Ruien’s eyes flicked toward the target, and he drew too. One after another, they each let their arrows fly. They landed just millimeters apart, each stuck deep in the bark of the tree.

Ruien thrashed, inhaling water. Dariush reluctantly let him up, allowing him to cough and nearly vomit, then immediately go limp again. Even before he went down again this time, Ruien already let his mind wander. He heard Dariush make a noise of irritation when he looked at his face, then the hand in his hair tightened and forced him back down.

Mingjue clung to him as the madness inside him settled. He held Ruien so tight he could have sworn his bones were creaking under the pressure. “Please be safe,” Ruien had whispered to him. “I won’t ask anything of you ever again. Mingjue…I love you. Please be safe.” He might have imagined feeling Mingjue’s fingers tighten over his back.

There was shouting above his head. But Ruien wasn’t sure what was happening at this moment. Wasn’t he in Qinghe? His head hurt. Or was it his eye? He suddenly remembered being shoved aside over and over by Mingjue, Baxia’s hilt striking his head. He strangely felt very little pain at the time. Knowing he was at least delaying Mingjue’s pain – as he would most certainly regret it if he managed to injure Lan Xichen – made any sense of pain fade away in favor of a feeling of fulfillment. 

Air. Ruien gasped in a strangled breath, desperately coughing out water that he had inhaled. 

“Tie him! Keep him out of sight!” said an unfamiliar voice. 

Dariush clicked his tongue in irritation. “I’ll be back for you, little mouse. And with Nie Mingjue’s head.”

Ruien’s hands were bound, behind his back this time, and his naked body was shoved to the ground, where he had no choice but to stay. His head hurt. His wrists hurt. He wasn’t sure where he was anymore. He knew only one thing: whether in the dream or reality, he could hear Mingjue’s voice.

“Where is he?”

He heard Dariush chuckle, and though he said something back, his voice did not carry the way Mingjue’s did. Ruien tried to move his head a little, straining to hear more of Mingjue’s voice.

“…if he has a single wound on him, I’ll tear your heart out through your throat.”

Again he couldn’t hear the reply. But then it was clear that there were sounds of fighting. Ruien’s consciousness grew hazy. Suddenly he wasn’t sure whether Mingjue’s voice had just been in his imagination from the start. 

For some reason, his mind drifted to the night he had helped Mingjue after he had attacked Jin Guangyao. Mingjue seemed completely unaware of the faint glint of desire in his dark eyes when he watched the small and beautiful Jin Guangyao. Meng Yao had also been the first one to notice Ruien’s feelings. He had smiled with such knowledge, such superiority. Ruien lost to him in every way. 

“I don’t want you to be Jin Guangyao.”

Ruien’s heart had nearly broken when Mingjue said those words. Of course it didn’t mean that Mingjue loved him in return. But he did accept him for who he was. Even if his heart was elsewhere…

“I hate him!” Mingjue had snarled as he shivered in the aftermath of the waterfall.

“Yes…but not only hate.”

When Ruien said this, Mingjue had not been able to reply. Not even in anger. He wasn’t able to argue, because of course it was true. He hid his complex feelings in many layers of rage, but that did nothing to obscure them from the eyes of the one who was always by his side. 

"Fool...he loves Jin Guangyao...not you." 

Mingjue's voice before he lost consciousness at the Burial Mounds echoed through Ruien's mind, over and over. Fool, he repeated back to himself. Fool. How could you think he cared for you? It was never you. 

“It’s okay…” Ruien mumbled, uncertain by now where he was or what was happening. Tears stung at his eyes as he tried to take back his own arrogance by reassuring Mingjue, even if he wasn't really here. “It’s okay if you love him…I’ll stay…I’ll help you…Mingjue…”

Tears gathered around his blindfold, dripping reluctantly down beside the water he had been half drowned in. Conflicting feelings fought inside him and became stirred up with pain and confusion. He shivered against the cold dirt, hunching in on himself. He let out soft sobs as he struggled to return to where he was. 

“He’s injured, now!” 

Ruien gasped, his heart breaking once again. They had been Sogdian voices. Was Mingjue hurt?

The sounds of battle continued, with howls of pain that were clearly not Mingjue. If he was hurt, he was at least not helpless. 

“Don’t falter!” This was Dariush’s voice, an edge of anger in it. “He still can’t move his legs, just wear him down!”

A sudden shrill scream and the sickening sound of body parts being torn apart.

“Monster! Monster! Aaaahh!”

“Dariush! What…what are these?!”

“It’s…it’s not real! It’s some kind of cultivator trick!”

Nevertheless, the sounds of ripping bodies continued, until the screams grew fewer and fewer. Finally there was only one panting voice left. It was then strained as a certain huge hand clasped around it and almost cut off its ability to pass air through the owner’s body. 

“I did come alone. These monsters came on their own, on the orders of a friend of a friend,” Mingjue growled, softly but still powerful enough for Ruien to hear. “You can see now that I’m a man of my word. So let’s see how painfully you’re going to have to die. He’s in here, isn't he?”

Only a rasping, strangled breath answered him as Mingjue dragged Dariush by his neck along with him. 

Ruien’s heart fluttered as he thought Mingjue might be coming closer. Yet he was still convinced somehow that it was still weeks ago, and he was trying to reassure Nie Mingjue that he didn’t need to feel guilty or deny his own feelings. 

“It’s okay…it’s okay…” he murmured, over and over. 

The sound of footsteps stopped. Mingjue’s great chest took in a sharp breath, but the stopped. A sound of squeezing, and Dariush’s throat struggling to give him air as it was crushed. Then, a sickening snap. Moments later, a heavy thud as Dariush’s lifeless body hit the ground. 

Ruien was so tired and only wanted to sleep. When warm fabric wrapped around him, and strong arms gently gathered him up, he let his head lean against a familiar, firm chest. He gratefully breathed in the scent of Nie Mingjue’s body.

“It’s okay…” he assured him once again, though he felt a tear slip down past the hessian blindfold. “No matter who you love, I’ll never leave you. I’ll always help you. I’ll love you even if I die.”

He thought he must have imagined it as he heard a shaking breath that even sounded like a sob. But he must have been mistaken. Nie Mingjue didn’t cry. Or maybe he wasn’t here at all, and this feeling was all Ruien’s imagination trying to spare him from pain.

Whether in the dream or reality, he next distinctly heard Mingjue’s voice rumbling against his body as it said gently, “You idiot.”


	22. A Banquet at Carp Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kang Ruien and Nie Mingjue finally clear up some misunderstandings between them, and Lan Xichen makes an unfortunate observation.

Horrific dreams plagued Ruien after he fell asleep in Mingjue’s arms. Daruish’s face – though he had not seen it even once during the time he was captured – loomed before him in a distorted version of the teenage one he had once known. When he thought he saw Mingjue in his dream, he reached out in desperation and clung to him as to a tree in a storm. Only to realize that he was no longer dreaming.

A rather stunned Mingjue leaned forward slightly from Ruien’s trembling grasp pulling him forward by the fabric over his chest. Ruien blinked, slowly realizing that he was in a bed, apparently in Carp Tower, and Minjgue was seated in a chair beside him. As soon as he realized it was reality, before his shame reared its head, Ruien clung to him even tighter, quickly patting Mingjue’s body for injuries. 

“…your legs…” he whispered, and quickly but clumsily leaned down to grasp one of Mingjue’s ankles, then the other. He gasped softly as he felt a heavy bandage covering one.

“Yes. I still have both,” Mingjue grumbled irritably, pushing Ruien back up properly to a resting position in the bed. 

Ruien found himself still somehow extremely exhausted and almost closed his eyes once again. But he was too eager to see Mingjue again. He wasn’t sure whether it was really Mingjue who saved him from his ordeal, but even to have him here when he woke made him fall in love all over again. He forced his tired eyes to stay open and take in more of him.

Mingjue stared listlessly at the floor for some time, seeming uncertain what to say. Eventually, he noticed Ruien staring at him. “What’s that look for?” he demanded.

Ruien’s self-consciousness began to return and he reluctantly lowered his gaze. He gasped again as he realized he had no idea how long he had been asleep. “The trial?” he asked hurriedly.

Mingjue’s jaw tightened slightly as he looked down at him, worry streaking his face. He looked almost ashamed as he turned his gaze to the ground once again. “Why do you have to worry about that?” he muttered softly, as if speaking to himself. He folded his arms with a sigh and eventually gave in, answering, “It’s done.”

“What?!” Ruien murmured in disbelief.

“Mn.”

“And…is Clan Leader Jin…?”

Mingjue nodded solemnly. “Convicted.”

“How…?”

“Should never have doubted the little snake,” Mingjue grumbled reluctantly. “His tip about the tea house girls was exactly right. Turns out when he was having fun, that normally tight-lipped Jin Guangshan turned into a fountain of information. They corroborated Meng Yao’s story about eight different ways. By the end of the testimony, no one doubted it.”

“Oh,” Ruien murmured. The mention of Meng Yao brought a strange uneasiness to Ruien’s chest. ‘Fool, the one he loves is Jin Guangyao’ echoed in his mind again, and he briefly shut his eyes tightly. When he opened them again, he prepared himself to accept the pain of being no more than a substitute. “And…Lianfang-zun?”

“…for now, pardoned,” Mingjue answered softly, though his expression was difficult to read. “Since he helped quite a bit in the capture of the main villain in this thing. And it seems Jin Zixuan has quite a soft spot for his brother. He’s chief cultivator now, if you hadn’t guessed,” he added with an ironic twitch of his eyebrow.

Ruien felt the desire to sleep overtaking him again, but he didn’t want to be separated from Mingjue again so soon. He struggled to think of how to keep the conversation going. Even though it hurt, he decided keeping to this topic would at least keep Mingjue’s interest. 

“Will he live here? Lianfang-zun,” he asked.

“I didn’t ask.”

Ruien glanced up at him curiously. “Why not?”

Mingjue rolled down an irritated glare. “Why exactly should I spend even one extra second of my day worrying about what that snake gets up to? Is that all you want to know?”

Ruien lowered his gaze again deferentially and obligingly dropped the topic, but felt confused by this reaction. They should both be well aware by now of how he felt about Meng Yao. Yet it sounded as if Nie Mingjue had reverted to being defensive about his feelings again. What could have changed while he was asleep?

But in any case, Mingjue seemed preoccupied by something else. “That…your old friend,” he murmured, sounding like a child confessing to breaking something. “I killed him. The others are all dead too.”

Ruien took this in for a moment, uncertain how he should feel. He was certain he was relieved they were dead. But the fact didn’t change the terror and pain he had experienced. Or the deep and bitter loneliness that his only contact with his homeland in almost fifteen years had been so traumatic. He shivered as he remembered the cold, the loneliness and the sickening fear of heavy hands forcing his head underwater.

He hadn’t realized he had closed his eyes tightly until he sensed a shadow over his face and unconsciously flinched. He opened his eyes to see Mingjue’s large, gentle hand hovering over his face, as if to caress his hair. But at his reaction, it immediately retracted. Ruien’s heart ached at the look on Mingjue’s face as he turned away again.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a soft voice that Ruien had never heard from him before. 

Ruien’s lips parted in surprise. “Clan Leader…?” he murmured worriedly. 

Mingjue’s brows furrowed sharply in self-directed anger, his fists tightening over his knees. “I should have known not to trust what passes for security here. I shouldn’t have let you out of my sight. You’re not even fully healed. I deserved to have lost this worthless leg,” he snarled, pounding his injured leg with his fist.

Despite feeling sympathetic pain at the torment which seemed to be giving Mingjue such suffering, Ruien’s chest felt inexplicably full of warmth and light. “Clan Leader…were you worried about me?” he couldn’t help from asking.

Mingjue glared down at him in disbelief. “Was I worried?!” he roared. “Just what do you take me for?! You string me along for months, make me jealous of my own best friend, put your body on the line for me every chance you get, even after I told you to get lost, and after all that you walk around like an ignorant puppy, unable to see how hopelessly I’m in love with you?!”

Ruien’s ears were ringing. He thought for almost a full minute as he and Mingjue stared at each other that he must still be dreaming. Only the pain in his body and the rough sound of Mingjue’s breathing told him otherwise. He gazed up at his clan leader with eyes that quickly began to blur with tears. He kept blinking them away in order to better admire this beautiful, hopeless creature before him. Weakly, he raised his hand to cling softly to Mingjue’s clothes again, urging him to come closer. 

“Clan Leader,” he said softly, in a tender and secret voice that he swore never to reveal to any other soul as long as he lived. “It’s okay. Even if it’s a lie, even if it’s not meant for me…would you say it again? A little more softly.”

Mingjue’s face became tortured as he closed his eyes and reluctantly let Ruien pull him closer. He even looked as if he might cry as Ruien affectionately stroked his face. “It doesn’t matter,” he muttered, looking away again. “What matters is that I’ll take care of you from now on. I won’t let you feel lonely, just because Xichen is…” His jaw tightened and he held back finishing his sentence. “…and I swear, I’ll never let you get hurt again.”

Ruien more firmly grasped Mingjue’s face and encouraging him to look down at him properly. “Who cares about Lan Xichen?” he asked bluntly.

Mingjue looked genuinely confused. He struggled with his rather unsophisticated social skills to piece together what Ruien could possibly mean. “Are you…still trying to spare my feelings? It’s all right. I shouldn’t have been so possessive in the first place.”

“You’ve never been as possessive as I wish you would be,” Ruien told him, pushing himself up with difficulty. He further stunned Mingjue by wrapping his arms around his neck, curling his fingers in his hair and placing several affectionate kisses along his brow and cheek. With breath that brushed his cheek, he momentarily held his breath in anxiety and then whispered, “Nie Mingjue. I’ve loved you ever since I first set eyes on you. That’s why my home is Qinghe. Because ever since I met you, home has been where you are.”

Mingjue’s breathing slowly heightened. He seemed unable to respond for several heavy moments, and Ruien filled the gap by giving him more kisses. When he finally grew bold enough to beg one from his lips, suddenly Mingjue grasped him tightly in his arms, pushing him back down into the bed and just barely restraining his strength as he almost kissed the breath out of him.

Ruien’s tired body was awash with warmth. He didn’t care how much it hurt, he ached to feel more of Mingjue’s touch. He encouraged him with what little strength he had, squeezing his fingers over the muscles which seemed to strain against his clothing. Soon he was trembling from happiness, pleasure and exhaustion, but he didn’t want to stop.

He could feel Mingjue’s desperate hardness against his leg. As he tried to urge him closer by moving his leg, he felt a low gasp from Mingjue against his lips. The center of Ruien’s body burned for him. He held him as close as he could as Mingjue quickly caught on and met the movements of Ruien’s hips with his own much more powerful ones.

Even over their clothes, with Mingjue’s movements, the two were soon completely lost in desire for each other. Ruien began letting out strained, helpless moans as his pleasure rose even further from intermittent, deep kisses that threatened his consciousness. Mingjue’s tree-like arms had both wrapped around the small of his back, making him feel light and cradled like a pet. He sank deep into their comforting grasp even as those powerful fingers occasionally clamped down on him with bruising strength. 

He didn’t realize how fervently Mingjue was watching him as he threw back his head and moaned loudly through his orgasm. But moments later, Mingjue’s sharp breathing and the tightening of his grasp. told him he had closely followed him. Ruien felt blissful and fulfilled, but completely drained of energy after that. 

Seemingly only moments later, he felt himself wrapped up in blankets and then into the cocoon of Mingjue’s arms on top of them. His clan leader placed several soft kisses against his hair, mildly stroking some of it from his face. 

“Rest,” Mingjue told him simply, but in such a gentle voice that it nearly broke Ruien’s heart all over again. 

He could not help but obey. And this time, in place of nightmares, he slept an utterly warm and dreamless sleep. 

…

With Mingjue’s care and frankly terrifying insistence that Ruien rest properly, he healed much more quickly this time. His vision remained poor in his left eye, but he claimed to suffer no impediment from it. 

As soon as Jin Guangshan was brought to justice, an unprecedented era of peace took over the cultivation world, largely under the advisement of the newly restored Jin Guangyao. Despite his restored name and title, he was not permitted an official office or salary with the Jin, but became instead a warm ally and a frequent visitor alongside his cultivation partner, Lan Xichen. 

Wei Wuxian became an extremely unreliable but enthusiastic uncle to Jin Rulan, and made sure he and Wen Yuan often had chances to play together as they grew. But on one occasion when he was visiting Carp Tower for a feast to which all the major clans had been invited, together with Wen Qing, Wen Ning and little A-Yuan, he missed the significance of Lan Wangji taking Wen Ning aside and asking him a series of questions.

By the time the main group found them, Wen Ning gasped and bowed away instinctively, while Lan Wangji stared listlessly at the ground. Kang Ruien didn’t find anything amiss in his expression, but Lan Xichen took in a sharp breath and quickly knelt in front of him. 

“Wangji…” he said worriedly, clasping his brother’s shoulder. 

As the entire group watched in wonder, even though nothing in his expression had changed, a tear slipped down the ethereally beautiful face of Lan Wangji. 

“Eh…Lan Zhan?!” Wei Wuxian cried in alarm. 

Wangji sniffed slightly, but surprisingly he then aimed an angry look up at Wei Wuxian. Rather than explain or even ask his leave, he simply grasped the frail man in black by the wrist and dragged him off where they could talk alone. Of all people, Jiang Cheng looked the most dumbfounded by this exchange.

“What the hell was that about?” he demanded, though no one else seemed to know either. 

As the evening wound down, bellies full and wine dunk, most had either returned to their rooms or fallen asleep where they were, leaving only those with high tolerance – Mingjue and Jin Guangyao – or those who had had little or nothing to drink – Lan Xichen and Kang Ruien – still awake and chatting. 

“I really think I should check on Wangji,” Xichen was saying for perhaps the third time, frowning down at the table with a contemplative hand under his chin.

Guangyao smiled in quiet affection at Xichen’s worry for his brother, but Mingjue rolled his eyes and growled, “Someday you will actually have to let him solve his own problems, Xichen.”

“It’s just that Master Wei is so…”

Guangyao placed a hand over his partner’s and nodded. “I would bet that they’re still awake. Perhaps we should move the party to Hanguang-jun’s rooms anyway, to let our other friends sleep it off in peace,” he said, nodding toward the array of clan leaders and a few lower members who were sprawled through the great hall. 

Warmth like the dawning of the sun broke over Xichen’s face. He seemed to momentarily forget his worry for his brother as he was briefly mesmerized by his sweet and beautiful cultivation partner. 

Ruien tried to hold back a smile at the sour face Mingjue used to glare at both of them. “What do you say, Clan Leader?” he asked of Mingjue. “Should we continue the party in the Lan suites?”

Mingjue just grumbled something unintelligible but was unwilling to take in any more flirting between the other two and got to his feet. Ruien joined him and eventually Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao followed them toward the Lan rooms. 

However, when they arrived and Lan Xichen parted the doors slightly to enter, he paused for a moment, utterly still as if he had been petrified. Past his body, though they could not yet see, the other three were able to detect some very particular sounds. 

“Ah…ah…Lan…Zhan!” Wei Wuxian cried over the harsh breathing of Lan Wangji, as well as a rhythmic thumping noise that seemed to want to shake the foundations of the rooms. “Lan Zhan…ah! You’re so…cruel!”

Xichen recoiled with a hand over his mouth and redness creeping all the way up to his ears. As soon as he had his panicked breath back, he whispered in alarm, “He…Wangji is…is he…bullying Master Wei?”

The other three were now able to see just the top halves of the two bodies intertwined on top of Lan Wangji’s bed. Indeed, Wei Wuxian’s hands seemed to be bound over his head by Lan Wangji’s forehead ribbon. But Ruien sighed and shook his head, respectfully placing a hand over his eyes. 

Jin Guangyao politely touched Xichen’s arm and cautioned him in a whisper, “Er-ge…I do not think this kind of bullying is entirely…one-sided.”

“Ah! Slower…slower, Lan Zhan…ah…oh, please…oh no…I’m going to cum again…Lan Zhan…Lan Zhan!”

“Hah…Wei Ying…ngh!”

Nie Mingjue was utterly unimpressed by the display, wearing a slightly disgusted expression as he gazed skyward and waited for someone to suggest another place to continue the party. Ruien politely kept his gaze elsewhere, though he couldn’t help the slight flushing of his cheeks at the continuous overflowing of lascivious sounds. Jin Guangyao meanwhile seemed to be growing concerned and slightly amused at what was happening inside the mind of Lan Xichen. 

“Er-ge…are you going to keep watching?” he asked, seeming to be struggling to hold back a smile.

Xichen gasped as if he had just realized where he was. He hurriedly, but to his credit almost silently, slid the doors closed again. The group quickly moved off a short way to stand and stare anywhere but at each other as they considered what to do next. 

Ruien glanced between the still somewhat amused Jin Guangyao at the flustered Lan Xichen. He coughed to cover up his own laugh and suggested in a neutral tone, “Perhaps we should call it a night after all.”

Xichen’s blush deepened slightly. “I can’t go back to our rooms…”

Jin Guangyao chuckled. He slid his hand inside Xichen’s and smiled up at him. “My old room is kept free. As long as you wouldn’t feel too cramped with two men in one bed.”

An odd noise emerged from Xichen’s throat as he struggled to vocalize any verbal response to that. In the end he merely covered his face in his hand. But then he nodded minimally, and obediently followed Jin Guangyao. 

Ruien finally let out a small chuckle before turning a hopeful expression up toward his still somewhat disgruntled clan leader. “Well then, Clan Leader. Shall we call it a night as well? Or perhaps I can help you clear some yang energy before you sleep?”

Mingjue’s frown only intensified. But Ruien thought he spotted a slight increase in color to his cheeks. “How long are you going to keep talking like a servant? You know it irritates me. You’d think you had no consciousness of being my cultivation partner at all.”

Ruien smiled, but in truth he still felt it wasn’t quite real. “On the contrary,” he said playfully. “It’s just that seeing Master Wei’s interesting fetish gave me an idea. Don’t you think ‘master and servant’ play sounds interesting?”

Mingjue’s scowl deepened until there was an entire storm in his expression. He grasped Ruien by his arm and told him flatly, “If you keep fanning my flames like that and I turn into some kind of weirdo as a result, you’d better be prepared for the consequences.”

Ruien only returned the strong grasp over his arm. He tilted his head with a gentle but slightly mischievous smile and said, “Does that mean I can fan them some more?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Note: the main story is now done, but I’m planning to add an extra or two with a bit more detail about what happened next between the happy couples! (In a word, pa-pa-pa. lol)


	23. Sparring Competition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mingjue holds a martial arts competition at Qinghe. Meanwhile, Kang Ruien, Wei Wuxian and Jin Guangyao have a different kind of competition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Wei Wuxian says bànlǚ 伴侣 (“(male) sex friend”), but Lan Wangji hears bànlǐ 办理 (“to manage”).

Several weeks later, Nie Mingjue held a martial arts competition at the Unclean Realm. Since cultivation skills were not allowed to be used, most clans sent their myrmidons rather than the higher ranking clan members to represent them. The assumption, though unspoken, was that most cultivators did not train their bodies nearly as well as their spirits.

Ruien proved this theory several times by defeating those with higher cultivation than he with little effort. However, as it turned out, he was no match for the mild-mannered Lan Xichen. 

Ruien coughed to restore his breath after having been thrown bodily to the floor. With a sweetly sad expression, Xichen offered him a hand and asked, “Are you hurt, Master Kang?”

Ruien concealed a bitter smile and shook his head, his ego much more badly wounded than his body at how easily he had been defeated. He accepted Zewu-jun’s hand to help him up. With that, there were only four competitors remaining: Lan Xichen, Nie Mingjue, Lan Wangji and a cultivator he didn’t know well named Song Zichen. 

Amid much cheering for a quite embarrassed Lan Xichen from the crowd of myrmidons, Ruien made his way over to Jin Guangyao, who at the moment was drinking beside Wei Wuxian. They had each been knocked out in the first round, and had since been strangely harmoniously enjoying the competition from the sidelines. Ruien folded his legs under a table beside Guangyao and accepted a cup of wine offered to him by Wei Wuxian. He was relieved to see Wei Wuxian looking somewhat healthier since he had started spending most of his time in the Cloud Recesses.

“Who are you betting on?” Wei Wuxian asked with a devilish grin.

Though the question had been directed at Ruien, Jin Guangyao let out a demure laugh, covering his mouth politely with his sleeve. “You do like a joke, Master Wei. Of course there is only one answer.”

Ruien allowed a very slight smile and nodded.

Wei Wuxian shrugged and agreed, “Of course. Only one.”

All at once, all three each said a different name, “Er-ge.” “Clan Leader Nie.” “Lan Zhan.”

Wei Wuxian chuckled mischievously. He curled his fingers and out of nowhere produced a small piece of jade, holding it temptingly between two fingers. “One piece says Lan Zhan.”

Jin Guangyao shook his head with a smile. But his smile faded almost as quickly and he calmly placed two pieces of jade on the table before him. 

Ruien chuckled a little himself, not quite sure how two such worthy gentlemen could be so wrong. “I’ll just warn you both: if neither of you bets on Clan Leader Nie, you’ll end up crying.”

Both other men aimed slightly irritated glares at him. “Ruien. You’re in too. Bet us a hand-cooked meal or something if you don’t have any jade,” Wei Wuxian suggested, joining Jin Guangyao’s two pieces of jade with two of his own on the table. Ruien tilted his head in acceptance, and they all turned their gazes back to the competition. 

Though many of the audience of myrmidons and clan members was disappointed that the two would not face one another in the final, the next match was between the Twin Jades of Lan. After a short break to allow them both a rest from their previous matches, the two exquisitely beautiful gentlemen, dressed in light martial arts garb which revealed their tall and lean figures to great advantage, met one another on either side of the dirt ring in the Unclean Realm’s courtyard, and bowed solemnly to one another. The image was somehow equally serene yet powerful.

“I’ll tell you something,” Wei Wuxian said in an undertone only intended for the other two. “You two have no idea of Lan Zhan’s stamina.”

Ruien cast his mind back with a blush and a skyward glance. He felt he had some idea.

Jin Guangyao let out a delicate laugh, but his eyes were sharp as he glanced over at Wei Wuxian and said in reply, “Indeed. Er-ge tells me his physical strength is unmatched in the Cloud Recesses, which is high praise, as we know. But…ehem. Forgive me, Master Wei, but I think a sport as elegant as this requires a little more than simply brute strength.”

Wei Wuxian didn’t look at Jin Guangyao, nor did his smile fade, but it froze somewhat. He blinked several times as if controlling his anger. “Hm? What exactly are you implying, Lianfang-zun?”

Jin Guangyao shrugged. “Just that there is something to be said for…technique.”

“Hah! Are you saying Lan Zhan has no technique?” Wei Wuxian demanded, still smiling but somehow looking quite enraged at the same time.

Jin Guangyao didn’t answer, only gave a dainty shrug of his shoulders and took a sip of wine, looking like the cat that got the canary.

Wei Wuxian nodded. “All right, fair enough. I’ll tell you a thing or two about technique…”

…

As soon as Lan Wangji understood the full nature of what had happened to him, Wei Wuxian had been instructed to use the Cold Pond as often as possible to heal and to help purify his body of yin energy. One evening, he had already been shivering in there for some time before he noticed someone watching him from the bank. Unsurprisingly, it was a slightly embarrassed-looking Lan Wangji. 

“Oh…ha ha. Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian greeted him warmly, though he was still shivering and clinging to his own body. “Are you here to cultivate?”

Wangji didn’t answer, only sullenly looking off to the side. But he didn’t move to undress, so Wei Ying presumed he was not. 

“Well, anyway, good timing. It’s so cold! You can warm me up, can’t you?” Wei Ying said rather suggestively.

But to his surprise, Wangji nodded a little. “Mm.”

With unusual gentleness, as Wei Wuxian emerged from the pond, Lan Wangji helped him get dressed and even rubbed his body a while to encourage blood flow. Wei Wuxian bit his lip with guilt as he thought about the two quite monumental things that had happened the last time they talked. 

“You’re still obsessing about it, aren’t you?” Wei Ying asked with a bitter smile. “You’re treating me like an invalid. Because I have no golden core.”

Slight tension grew between Wangji’s brows, but he said nothing. He hadn’t admitted it at the time, but he must have learned from Wen Ning at the last banquet at Carp Tower about Wei Wuxian’s desperate act to help Jiang Cheng. That night, he had only managed to pry a few reluctant admissions from Wei Wuxian before losing his temper and letting free the desperate sexual tension he had apparently been holding back all these years. Not that Wei Wuxian was complaining exactly, but he still felt so uncertain around this man. 

Wei Ying sighed, shaking his head a little. “All right. Well let’s get back to your room, anyway. It’s freezing!”

“…mh.”

Back in the Chamber of Silence, Wangji obligingly set a warming pan at the foot of the bed after tucking Wei Wuxian securely in it. Without a word, he himself simply turned to begin grading homework of the younger disciples at his desk nearby. Wei Wuxian sighed again while watching him. Even though he still felt a little cold, he propped himself up on one elbow to interrogate his sullen roommate.

“Am I like your pet now?” he asked curiously.

Wangji sighed. “You do not belong to me.”

“But you wish I did?”

“No.”

“Hm. Then…something like a sex buddy?”

“…to manage what?” Wangji murmured, looking a little confused. 

Wei Wuxian immediately realized that he had misheard “sex friend” as “manage,” and couldn’t hold back a wild stream of laughter. When he had recovered himself, as he grew wary of the irritation growing on Wangji’s face, he decided to ask what was really on his mind. He opened his mouth to ask the question he had held back from asking, even at that crucial moment when they had finally made love for the first time. But a sudden fear struck him just as he began to speak. What if he was wrong? What if Lan Wangji didn’t really feel that way about him? What if…

Wangji had been watching the mirth slowly fade and worry creep over Wei Wuxian’s face. He gracefully got to his feet and approached the bed. He placed a hand over Wei Wuxian’s.

“You are still cold,” he said, a little more softly than usual.

Wei Wuxian giggled. “Are you going to warm me up?”

“……mm.”

Not having actually expected him to agree to this childish teasing, Wei Ying gasped as Wangji removed the covers over him only long enough to get into bed beside him and curl up with Wei Wuxian’s body tucked neatly against his own. 

Wei Wuxian found it difficult not to remain tense as he was warmly and gently embraced by the man who had spent years publicly hating him. But he could not deny that being held against him brought back some vivid memories of the feeling of being thrust into repeatedly, as he was wrapped in that damn forehead ribbon and fucked until he was barely able to think. He swallowed audibly and unconsciously shifted his hips.

“L-Lan Zhan…you know…I was just joking. You don’t have to do this,” he muttered to hide his embarrassment.

“Don’t move,” Wangji told him calmly, holding him just a little tighter.

“Yeah…it’s just…look, to be honest it’s going to be quite hard to sleep if you keep touching me.”

“…you don’t like it?” Wangji asked with a note of apprehension.

“Ugh.” Wei Wuxian buried his face in his hands. “…the opposite.”

Wangji shifted himself up slightly to get a better view of Wei Ying’s face, even hidden behind his hands as it was. “You like it?” he asked in that devastatingly low and sweet voice.

“Well…yes. But look, I’m not flirting, okay?” Wei Wuxian insisted. “I’m not trying to sully the great Hanguang-jun, I swear. I’m just telling you that it’s hard for me when…hey…what…?”

As he was making his excuses, Lan Wangji was shifting himself down underneath the covers. He had already taken hold of Wei Wuxian’s undergarments and was calmly undoing them. 

“H-…Hanguang-jun…?” Wei Wuxian squeaked nervously. “That’s…a funny way to get me warmer…by taking all my clothes off…”

Lan Wangji said nothing and did not even look up at him as he slid his hands down Wei Wuxian’s ribs, parting the fabric over his chest, then his waist. Still without a word, as soon as the area in question was in sight, the cool and collected Hanguang-jun took Wei Wuxian’s half-hard cock all the way into his mouth. 

“Ohhhh! Whoa…!” Wei Wuxian cried, helplessly clinging to his back from on top of the covers. He was further blown away by the sheer eroticism of what little he could see of the great Hanguang-jun pleasuring Wei Wuxian from underneath his blankets. He threw his head back and gave in to the incredible feeling of the inside of Lan Zhan’s mouth.

“L-Lan Zhan…!” he whispered breathlessly, bucking his hips unintentionally as Wangji repeatedly took him so deep he was sure he could feel his tip striking the back of his throat. “Oh…oh crap…how can you be good at this too? Oh…I really don’t know what to think about you, Hanguang…NGH…jun…ahhh…”

He quickly lost the power of speech as one of Wangji’s hands curved up under his pert bottom, languidly touching as if in appreciation at first and already driving all the sentient thought from Wei Wuxian’s mind. But then two of those long and slender fingers slid devilishly down his crack, and began massaging an area that no one other than Lan Wangji had ever touched.

“Ngh!” Wei Wuxian yelped, his legs trembling as he instinctively lifted his hips, even though this would only be the second time he had ever been stimulated there. “Lan Zhan…ngh…Lan Zhan…” he whispered as he struggled to form thoughts. “You can’t…do that…it’s not good…”

Lan Wangji only slowly removed Wei Wuxian’s cock from his mouth long enough to tell him again, “Don’t move.” Then he sank even more deeply down against Wei Wuxian’s hips, and simultaneously slid one finger inside him.

“Nnooohh…!” Wei Wuxian moaned stupidly, tensing up and trembling as waves of embarrassment and pleasure fought inside him. He couldn’t stop curling his fingers in the blankets on top of Wangji’s hard, powerful back as it shifted up and down, dragging intense sensations from him. 

He had already robbing Wei Wuxian of any resistance by the time he finally pulled back, after widening Wei Wuxian’s entrance to allow three fingers inside. He drew himself up, keeping the blanket covering them both, and flipped Wei Wuxian over onto his stomach. 

“Uh…?” Wei Ying moaned blearily, raising his hips simply to avoid the stimulation on his painfully hard cock. He was about to ask why Lan Wangji had stopped in the middle, but then his whole consciousness was taken up but the huge, hard and hot object pushing its way as deep as it could go inside him.

“Ohhhh!” he cried out again, reaching back to cling to Wangji’s shoulders behind his own. “Oh, Lan Zhan…you devil…what are you doing?” Wei Wuxian demanded, though in a voice so thick with pleasure he could not even convince the entirely straightforward Lan Wangji. “Are you trying to turn us both into cut-sleeves?” Wei Ying asked with a small chuckle, snuggling his face up underneath Wangji’s chin.

“…mm.”

“Eh?”

“Don’t move. Get warm,” Lan Wangji instructed again. And with no further warning, he began mercilessly pounding Wei Wuxian into the bed. Wei Wuxian’s screams that night were enough to provoke an intense lecture from Lan Qiren, and even a highly embarrassed one from Lan Xichen the following morning. But at least he was warm. Too much so. In fact for a while after that he almost wondered if he might be feverish whenever Lan Wangji walked into a room.

…

Ruien swallowed heavily, grateful that from this angle his clothes and the table covered up the effect that hearing this story had had on his body. He did not feel particularly attracted to anyone who wasn’t Nie Mingjue, but there was no denying that imagining sex between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian – and in particular Wei Wuxian’s skillful and lurid descriptions of it – was hard not to be affected by.

Jin Guangyao nodded in acceptance, and though nothing in his expression conveyed embarrassment, looking even more beautiful than usual with a gentle touch of red in his cheeks. “I congratulate you, Master Wei. That is certainly a step up from what I imagined.”

Wei Wuxian’s glee quickly faded at the lack of acquiescence in the smaller gentleman’s voice. He sullenly rested his chin on his hand. “You still say Lan Da-ge is better then, huh?”

Jin Guangyao allowed himself a secret smile, gazing down before him. “Master Wei. The deepest respect to both you and Hanguang-jun. But what one wants in intimate situations is not a battle drum, but a flute.”

Wei Wuxian raised a dubious brow. “A flute, huh?”

…

It took a lot of convincing to get Guangyao to stay in the Cold Chamber. He insisted for some time that he should remain in the borrowed quarters once assigned to Kang Ruien. Even when he finally agreed, he requested a separate bed, and took up many of the menial tasks normally assigned to outer disciples in order to justify his presence there. If he were not reading, he was often to be found fastidiously cleaning or preparing meals for Lan Xichen, who was quite at a loss as to how to deal with this behavior.

Lan Xichen watched rather dejectedly one evening as he simply wished to enjoy Guangyao’s company but found him meticulously folding laundry. “A-Yao…” he murmured.

“Mm?” asked Guangyao, briefly directing a soft smile at his beloved before returning to his task.

“Are you…happy doing that? It’s just, there’s really no need…”

Guangyao smiled appreciatively at first, but it gradually faded into a complicated expression. He carefully folded the last of Lan Xichen’s upper garments and placed it neatly inside a drawer with it fellows. 

“I spent a very long time consumed by fear of being merely a servant,” Guangyao said carefully. He paused for a moment in thought. “What an odd set of priorities, now that I think about it.”

Lan Xichen’s gentle face took on a slightly hopeful smile. “Is that so?”

Guangyao shared his smile for a moment before preparing tea for both of them and coming to sit beside Lan Xichen at his table, looking at him with soft admiration. “I once thought of cruelty as my armor,” Guangyao said with an edge of pain in his gentle voice. “If I made enough divisions between myself and those nominally beneath me, I believed I could feel higher.” He shook his head in self-deprecation. “It seems so obvious now that such armor does far more internal damage than it does to anyone else.”

Xichen’s expression softened and also grew more complex. He reached out to cover Guangyao’s hand with his own. “It isn’t just you. We all feel that sense of inferiority sometimes, and it clouds our vision.”

Guangyao chuckled, showing a bit of his dark side as he briefly flicked his eyes skyward. “Most of us. Yes. But be fair, Er-ge, you’ve never felt inferior.” However, the look of hurt which flickered over Xichen’s face made Guangyao not only immediately regret his words, but also shook his perception of Lan Xichen as a perfect human being. “Er-ge…?” Guangyao asked in alarm.

Xichen looked away with a difficult expression before reluctantly nodding as he began his explanation. “I see. It was my mistake. I once thought that your comments that day…were some of those designed purposefully to hurt me. If they were true, then…” He sighed softly. “In fact, either way it is the same. Yes. I have felt inferior.”

Guangyao could have slapped himself. How could he have forgotten that he had once purposefully tried to hurt Xichen exactly as he said by implying a virgin could never satisfy him?! He quickly tried to explain, “Er-ge…I’ve never-“

“I am inexperienced,” Xichen interrupted him, suddenly moving quite close before Guangyao even noticed. His heart thrummed into his chest at Xichen’s proximity and the sound of his low, gentle voice echoing down into his bones. Xichen met his eyes with a devoted expression and said in an intimate murmur, “And though not as quick a study as you, I am a diligent student.”

He carefully stroked Guangyao’s forehead and cheek with the tips of his long, graceful fingers, causing Guangyao’s eyes to flutter and his skin to come alive. He curved his palm against Guangyao’s cheek, to which Guangyao couldn’t help but lean in and close his eyes. 

While his eyes were closed, Xichen leaned in very close and whispered, “Will you help me to learn?”

Guangyao let out a shuddering breath, quickly opening his eyes to take in the ludicrously beautiful sight of Xichen gazing admiringly at him from just inches away. “Er-ge…” he whispered breathlessly. “It’s really not…I’ve never…”

As he was speaking, Xichen placed a feather-soft kiss against his cheek, lingering there close to his skin ever after, and unconsciously sending waves of pleasure down Guangyao’s cheek with the soft touch of his breath. While Guangyao was still reeling from this, Xichen briefly glanced at his face to gauge his expression, then grew bolder and leaned across to place another soft kiss against his ear. He evoked a startled moan from Guangyao by then sliding his tongue inside.

“Ahhh…!” Guangyao gasped, frantically clinging to Xichen’s robes. 

Sensing his cries were ones of pleasure, Xichen did not let up his torturously pleasurable assault on Guangyao’s sensitive ear. He never would have expected Xichen was capable of such debauchery. True, this was not the first time someone had done this to him, but he never remembered this overpowering feeling of rather embarrassing sensation before. He was already a trembling mess by the time Xichen’s delicious attacks against his ear finally withdrew. 

Seeing he could barely hold himself up, Xichen helped Guangyao to lay back on the floor. He bestowed more comforting kisses against his cheek as his hand stroked the other side of Guangyao’s neck, making him shiver. That hand ever so gently traced down the lines of his neck and collar bone. As Guangyao’s breath began to rise audibly with anticipation, Xichen’s hand nevertheless continued a slow and careful journey down his chest over his clothes. By the time his fingertips brushed Guangyao’s nipple, the smaller man let out a shout and arched his back, though he immediately bit his lip and curled in on himself in embarrassment.

“A-Yao,” Xichen whispered against his cheek. He nuzzled the side of his face with his own and told him, “You are so impossibly adorable.”

Guangyao wordlessly reached up and clung tightly to Xichen’s voluminous clothes as he continued his slow palpation of Guangyao’s body. Guangyao could barely breathe. Every slight movement of Xichen’s hand seemed to send fire raging through his blood, and electricity running down his skin. He began to grow afraid of what would happen if Xichen touched his cock now. 

Xichen’s hand curved around his ribs, running down the ridges between them as if counting them. But as it squeezed down on Guangyao’s waist, as if threatening to throw him onto the bed and fuck him at any moment, finally Guangyao couldn’t bear it any longer. 

He turned over onto all fours and tightly grasped Xichen’s collar, pulling him close. “I can’t wait…please, Er-ge…”

Xichen sighed. He obligingly rose to all fours as well, leaning over Guangyao as he trembled expectantly beneath him. But then he kissed his cheek again and murmured, “My love. Even if I were not still learning your body, I do know that without preparation it is impossible.”

Guangyao whimpered, thumping his head down against his hands on the floor. “I can take it…please…!”

Xichen paused momentarily, seeming troubled. Eventually though, there was a flutter of white silk before Guangyao’s eyes. Xichen’s long fingers entered his vision too. At first he was so captivated by the pure white fabric held in those beautiful fingers that he did not notice his other hand pulling Guangyao’s wrists together, and wrapping the fabric gently by firmly around them several times. 

Guangyao took in a shaking breath as he realized he was completely at Lan Xichen’s mercy, even more than usual. Normally such vulnerability would terrify him. How was it that now the only thing on his mind was frustration and desire?

Xichen caressed his hair and kissed it. “Forgive me,” he said softly there. “I’ll try to be brief.”

As Guangyao’s heartbeat thrummed anxiously at what he might mean, he felt cold air against the lower half of his body as Xichen quickly undressed him. And then, unbelievably, soft, warm breath against his exposed parts. Long fingers gently caressing the curves of his ass. Suddenly, the long and dexterous tongue of his beloved slid languidly across his entrance.

“NGH!” Guangyao cried in panic, halfheartedly trying to twist away, but finding Xichen’s light grasp on his waist was somehow impossibly steady. “Er-ge! You…your mouth is…sacred! You can’t do this…!”

Though he lightly licked the entrance several times more before doing so, Xichen replied, with his low voice echoing against the most sensitive parts of Guangyao’s body, “Everything I have belongs to my beloved. And there is nothing more sacred to me than his comfort and happiness.”

Guangyao whimpered as tears of both joy and heartache rose to his eyes. Even after so long, he still couldn’t believe he deserved someone so perfect. “Er-ge…” he whimpered helplessly, but no longer objected. 

Xichen’s tongue not only continued to tease Guangyao’s entrance but gradually grew bolder. Guangyao realized that somehow a virgin like Xichen was trying to open him up using only his tongue. He had always been quite easily turned on by oral sex anyway, and now to have the person he most admired in the world going so far just to give him pleasure, it was absolute agony trying not to cum with every flick of Xichen’s skillful tongue.

Xichen’s tongue treated Guangyao’s dirtiest place as if it deserved the highest affection, taking long and careful strokes inside but frequently caressing the entrance as well. Guangyao was beside himself, repeatedly letting out desperate noises and twitching all over, spreading his bound hands wide as he struggled to seek a release from this pleasant but insufficient sensation.

When at last he felt that devilish tongue slowly draw out from him, Guangyao let out a shaking sigh and collapsed against the floor, utterly out of breath. He had somehow managed to avoid cumming, but now even the movements of his own body were sending tiny shivers of pleasure around the apex of his thighs. He could feel his own cock pulsing and dripping with precum down onto the wooden floor of the Cold Chamber. 

When he felt both Xichen’s large hands wrap around his waist, his breath halted. He arched his back in anticipation. A soft pressure of something hot against his entrance. Pressing harder. Sliding slowly, slowly inside. He clenched his fingers and gasped for breath. Deeper. Deeper. So slowly yet so mercilessly advancing he could have sworn it must be reaching up to his ribs by now. 

This was it. How was he feeling it so much more than the first time? This was Xichen’s cock, filling him up completely. Finally, after an agonizing wait, he felt Xichen’s hips meet his own. But Guangyao had been teased too long and too well. At the mere thought that he and Xichen were fully connected, he let out a strangled cry and cum shot from his cock straight to the floor. 

Xichen gasped at the feeling of Jin Guangyao tightening around him through his orgasm. “A-Yao…?” he whispered, sounding worried. 

Guangyao was shivering and twitching beneath him, unable to speak. Partly because he was embarrassed but partly because the pleasure hadn’t stopped even after cumming. He whimpered and unconsciously shifted his hips minimally closer and further away, helplessly urging Xichen to move inside him at last. 

Xichen panted softly and placed both hands on Guangyao’s shoulders, holding him steady as the stimulation seemed too much for him too. “I’m sorry…A-Yao…I don’t think I can last long this time…”

Guangyao whimpered again and moaned simply, “Please…!”

Xichen too seemed at his limit of endurance. He took in a steadying breath, slowly pulling out a few inches. Guangyao was already letting out shameless moans. When that heat thrust inside him again, though the thrust was slow, Guangyao felt as if his prostate were melting. Xichen was so big and hot, but his thrusts so gentle, every part of him was being stimulated but not yet with sufficient speed to make him cum again. 

Guangyao would later remember with shame how much he lost his dignity in those moments, making all sorts of desperate noises and helplessly wriggling on the floor. But he felt something incredibly powerful building and he couldn’t think of anything else. His mind was filled with Xichen’s cock sliding gradually deeper and gradually harder into him.

“…A-Yao…” Xichen panted, nearing the pace that Guangyao was craving. “You’re too erotic…I’m…ngh!”

With that, he thrust several times with shallow, quick thrusts directly to Guangyao’s deepest point. As he felt Xichen’s cock twitch and heat flood inside him, Guangyao’s eyes rolled back and dilute, watery cum spurted from his cock. He could feel his embarrassment ready to return in moments as soon as he calmed down, but the pleasure from still having Xichen inside him was still surging through him. He could only lay there whimpering softly and trembling.

Xichen let out a heavy breath and leaned in close, giving Guangyao soothing kisses against his cheek. “All right. This time I’m sure I can last much longer.”

Guangyao took in a sharp breath. To his disbelief, Xichen had not even gone down in the slightest after flooding his insides with warmth. After changing their position, so that this time have Guangyao cradled sweetly but also completely unable to move inside Xichen’s powerful arms as he sat, Xichen heartlessly sought out every sensitive point on Guangyao’s body for half the night while he was reduced to wordless moaning.

…

Not for the first time since Jin Guangyao’s purring and honeyed voice had begun his lascivious tale, Wei Wuxian swallowed audibly. “Well,” he said, peeking up curiously at Lan Xichen, who had just taken another point from Lan Wangji and was now leading the score in the match. “I have to admit I thought he was a bit of a fuddy-duddy. Even more so than Lan Zhan. So he’s willing to do that, huh…”

Despite looking only proud and satisfied moments before, Jin Guangyao suddenly shot a glare at Wei Wuxian. “I should remind you, Master Wei, that I have a deep well of jealousy from which to draw, and no shortage of experience at assassination.”

Wei Wuxian scoffed out a laugh. “You think I’ve got my eyes on your Zewu-jun? I can barely handle one Jade of Lan, let alone two!” he quipped. But then he seemed to lapse into deep thought and added under his breath, “Well…if they both suggested it…”

Just as Jin Guangyao was about to launch into a rage, the match was called. 

“Lan Xichen wins, eleven points to ten!”

The beautiful Twin Jades of Lan, both entirely unhurt and even hardly bearing any dirt from the ground on their clothes, faced each other once again and bowed deeply. Lan Xichen smiled at Lan Wangji and placed a hand on his shoulder. They both quietly confirmed that the other was uninjured before retiring for Lan Xichen to prepare for his next match and for the other semi-final to begin, both the perfect examples of gentlemanly behavior.

Wei Wuxian disappointedly huffed and sullenly dropped his two jade pieces onto Jin Guangyao’s table. At that point both their gazes turned rather expectantly toward Ruien, who was at that moment bringing his wine cup up to his lips, but stopped under their gazes. He looked back at them curiously.

“Well?” asked Wei Wuxian, somewhat suggestively.

“…well?” Ruien repeated, not catching on.

“Aren’t you going to…you know,” Wei Wuxian asked with a smirk and a tilt of his head toward Nie Mingjue, who was just emerging to begin his bought with Song Zichen. “Make your case?”

Ruien couldn’t help watching Mingjue’s immensely tall and broad-shouldered figure stride in languid yet dangerous beauty toward his starting point on the side of the ring. He only smiled slightly and sipped his wine, though his thoughts were inexorably drawn to far more pleasant times.

…

“You’re not well enough yet,” Mingjue grumbled, though not very convincingly, his dark eyes seeming darker still with desire as they looked away in embarrassment.

Ruien had already crawled into his lap as he sat on his bed, preparing for sleep. He had slipped into Mingjue’s bedroom that night, two weeks after he was abducted, after he simply couldn’t wait any longer. He had taken a bath and prepared himself before he came, expecting his clan leader would have excuses ready for why they couldn’t have sex again yet. But as he leaned in and placed affectionate, somewhat teasing kisses on Mingjue’s neck and ear, he smelled traces of warm water and soap on his skin. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one who was impatient.

He remained as close as possible in Mingjue’s lap, and stripped off his upper clothing, letting it fall beside the bed. “Look,” he whispered against Mingjue’s neck, and even tangled his fingers into Mingjue’s in order to slide his hand up his thigh, encouraging him to touch wherever he wanted. “Not even a bruise.”

Mingue’s breathing heightened, and now Ruien could feel it against his bare skin. He felt his clan leader’s predatory gaze examining him, slowly and sensuously. But just as quickly, Mingjue closed his eyes and turned away. “It’s not just…physical wounds. He tortured you.”

“And my savior is right here before me,” Ruien whispered, resting his face in the hollow of Mingjue’s neck and seeking his comfort. “Making me wait for so long. Tempting me with his beauty and strength every day.”

He felt a slight loosening of tension in Mingjue’s body. His huge hand slowly came to rest at the back of Ruien’s neck and squeezed down gently into his hair. Ruien closed his eyes and shivered blissfully, unable to imagine greater happiness than receiving Nie Mingjue’s tender attentions. 

With a note of regret in his voice, Mingjue murmured, “You’ve met Lan Xichen. How can you call anything else beautiful when that man exists in the world?”

“Nh,” Ruien murmured noncommittally. “I won’t say he isn’t beautiful. But…forgive me, Clan Leader, do you not feel his very beauty is somewhat…”

“…what?”

“Well…alien?”

Nie Mingjue frowned sharply at this. “Alien?” he repeated dubiously.

Ruien nodded, though he was far too comfortable to remove his head from resting against Mingjue’s collarbone and neck. His body was always so warm, and his natural scent both alluring and masculine. “Like a piece of glass almost. Or a glacier.”

Mingjue sighed, apparently taking this for Ruien trying to soothe his feelings again. “A glacier, huh?” he said somewhat sardonically.

“Mm. If Zewu-jun is like a glacier, then Chifeng-zun is like…a war horse.”

Mingjue took this in for a moment, not appearing entirely pleased but neither particularly offended. “A war horse?”

Ruien nodded, closing his eyes and breathing in the warm scent of his skin. “Though you can be entirely ruthless, and have no fear even in the face of terrible danger, at heart you are steady and peaceful. You breathe in life so much that it flows out of you in energy that makes you impossible not to follow. You are power and strength, but also beauty and grace. And I love you for it.”

Mingjue’s eyes had closed as Ruien was speaking and his expression was difficult to read. But he gathered up Ruien into his arms and held him tightly. “I don’t know if you’re mad or blind…but if you say such things to me, I won’t be able to let you go.”

Ruien felt his eyes sting slightly but he held back the desire to cry, and instead turned his face while caressing Mingjue’s jaw with his fingertips to turn his head down toward him. He pressed a soft but deep kiss to his clan leader’s lips. And moments later found himself being easily lifted completely into Mingue’s arms and laid out against the bed.

As soon as he abandoned his reticence, Mingjue’s strength became overwhelming. He cradled Ruien’s body in his great arms as he kissed him deeply into the bed. Between waves of pleasure, Ruien roughly pulled apart Mingjue’s clothing so he could finally feel his skin again. He shuddered at the hardness of Mingjue’s body under his fingers. 

Though he had never shown such tendencies before, after moving his hungry kisses to Ruien’s neck, Mingjue seemed impatient and even bit him softly in an attempt to get closer as soon as possible. Ruien let out an aching sigh and unconsciously raised his hips, yearning to feel Mingjue inside him. Mingjue let out a soft grunt of frustration as well. He sighed and leaned back, spreading his large hand possessively across Ruien’s chest. 

After quickly removing the remainder of both their clothing, Mingjue looked down at Ruien with an expression that made him shiver: equally tender and yet full of desire. He reached down to a cabinet by the bedside and produced a vial of oil that he had obtained soon after they first started having sex. He spread it over his fingers, but then to both Ruien’s shame and excitement, lifted his hips easily with one hand so that he could tantalize him with the other.

“Ngh!” Ruien cried, clinging to Mingjue’s arm with trembling hands. It was embarrassing to have almost the entire lower half of his body held up in Mingjue’s sure grasp, but he felt heat flooding up from where Mingjue’s long, powerful fingers began pushing inside him. “Clan…leader…” Ruien panted after only moments of this treatment. “Please stop…I don’t want to…cum yet…”

Mingjue’s predatory gaze observed him impassively for a moment. He twisted his fingers to strike Ruien’s most sensitive parts even more slowly and directly, causing Ruien to throw his head back and bite his lip with a strangled moan. He could feel his own cock pulsating against his stomach, aching for Mingjue. After waiting so long to be with him again, every second he had to try not to cum was torture.

“Please…Mingjue…” he whispered desperately.

At that, and with no hesitation, suddenly Mingjue shifted his grasp to take Ruien’s hips in both hands, knelt before him and pulled Ruien’s whole body slowly up as he impaled him with his cock. 

“Nnnnngh!” Ruien cried, inadvertently digging his fingernails into Mingjue’s rippling thigh muscles. 

He felt so warm. It was as if every place Mingjue touched slowly began to burn. At the core of Ruien’s body was the hottest part of all, where Mingjue’s throbbing member pushed its way inside him, filling up every space and even robbing him of thought. 

Barely able to take full breaths, he whispered, “I’m….going to…”

Mingjue’s brows twitched in some emotion watching him. He leaned down without a word, keeping their hips pressed tight together, and softly caressed Ruien’s hair and cheek. He bestowed teasingly soft kisses to his lips, frankly far too tender for what Ruien wanted. But the agony of this gentle teasing only increased his desire and made him tighten around Mingjue, causing them both to gasp.

After regaining his breath, Mingjue murmured in a mildly scolding voice, “You’d better hold on until at least I start moving inside you.”

But Ruien was so close to the edge he was still having trouble drawing breath. His hands tightened and loosened against Mingjue’s shoulders as he tried to concentrate, but he couldn’t speak. Finally, to both ease and increase his frustration, slowly Mingjue began to move. 

After kissing Ruien deeply once again, he sat back on his knees and held Ruien’s hips as he slowly shifted his own deep inside him. Merely one stroke of his cock against Ruien’s prostate caused him to tense his entire body and let out a strangled noise. Even though it hadn’t been touched directly yet, his cock felt so warm that he wasn’t even sure whether or not he had already cum. 

“Breathe,” Mingjue instructed gently.

Ruien opened his mouth to answer, but he feared a scream of pleasure would come out instead, and he only gasped. Again that hot force pulled out and pushed its way inside him, and again, faster, and slowly increasing in pace until finally Ruien yelled out and wrapped his legs desperately around Mingjue’s waist. Mingjue gasped at his sudden twitching around him and wrapped both arms around his waist, riding out the wave of Ruien’s orgasm as it shuddered over both of them.

However, he barely let him recover before Mingjue suddenly began pumping inside him at his own pace, holding onto Ruien’s body tightly and making tantalizing, masculine noises against his chest. Ruien couldn’t hold back his cries anymore, especially now with his overly sensitive cock trapped between Mingjue’s body and his own, unable to escape the sensations. 

Mingjue’s grasp was so strong. He could feel his whole muscled torso pressed against him, the forceful movements of his hips almost instantly causing Ruien to see stars. Worse still for Ruien, Mingjue had begun panting his name in that deliciously low and bear-like voice.

“Ruien…Ruien…”

“Ming…jue…!” Ruien cried out, between tortuous waves of pleasure.

Mingjue grunted at the sound of his name and his grasp bit with bruising strength into Ruien’s back. He let out a low moan and grasped the back of Ruien’s hair, passionately pulling his head back as he began to pump his heat inside him.

Ruien had nowhere to run from the sensations rippling down his entire body. Mingjue held him so tightly that he could barely move, his back arched high against the bed and his arms and legs only trembling limply on either side of Mingjue’s brutally strong form. With this added warmth inside him, and Mingjue’s shivers and grunts of pleasure against his skin, he almost felt his consciousness threatening to leave him. 

It took Mingjue many long moments to even finish cumming, and all the while Ruien could only tremble in prolonged, tortuous bliss. Finally, Mingjue took in a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh.

“That was…already probably too much. Go back to your own room now,” he grumbled, beginning to extricate himself from Ruien.

But even before he had pulled out of him, a somewhat delirious Ruien lifted both hands up to covetously stroke his face. He was so overwhelmed with love for Nie Mingjue and still trembling from pleasure that he barely knew what he was saying anymore as he uttered a coquettish request.

“Not…enough…” he complained sweetly, teasingly running one finger down Mingjue’s lips. “Mingjue…please?”

Suddenly the hot force inside him seemed to grow harder than ever, and Ruien was forced to let out a whimper of desperate pleasure. As he was shaking, he missed the intensity of Mingjue’s expression as he leaned over him and growled.

“You really…agh, don’t blame me if you can’t walk tomorrow!”

Ruien managed a soft, trembling laugh, since Mingjue didn’t seem to realize how gentle he actually was, but then all his words were lost as his dearest cultivation partner and clan leader repeatedly searched out his deepest point and filled him with heat and pleasure. He actually didn’t quite remember how that night ended, only that he was still in Mingjue’s arms when next he woke.

…

“Well…?” Wei Wuxian prodded again at Ruien’s continued silence. Jin Guangyao was looking at him with some fascination, having possibly read in Ruien’s face what he was thinking about.

But Ruien only offered the barest of smiles toward Wei Wuxian and said, “I would, but…”

Suddenly, a loud WHUMP resounded as Song Zichen was tossed to the ground like a doll. Mingjue was already moving back to his side of the ring when Wei Wuxian and Jin Guangyao turned to look. 

Ruien shrugged. “I think some people’s skills speak for themselves.”

Wei Wuxian raised a dubious brow at him. “You talk a good talk, Kang Ruien,” he said, leaning close and whispering in a conspiratorial voice. “But be honest. I’ll admit Lan Zhan isn’t the most gentle of lovers. But Big Brother Nie over there?” he hissed excitedly, tossing his head back at the coiled mass of muscles and fury that was Ruien’s clan leader. “Come on! How can you even sit down?!”

To this, Ruien only sighed. Even though it was an extraordinarily tender feeling, to think he was the only one who knew that side of him, the way people misunderstood Mingjue was still a source of great sorrow. 

Reluctantly, he placed his wine cup back on the table. He looked closely at both Wei Wuxian and Jin Guangyao. Finally he said softly, “I won’t go into detail, as I believe my clan leader is quite private on such matters. But one thing I will say is that after being with Clan Leader Nie…I had to learn the word ‘dry orgasm.’”

And then he went back to quietly sipping his wine. The other two exchanged a glance and a slightly blush, before both glancing curiously toward Nie Mingjue, who had already won the match while they were talking. And just a few minutes later, he put Lan Xichen on his back too. Ruien noticed Wei Wuxian looking a little hot under the collar during Mingjue’s bought with Xichen, having possibly been imagining the two very capable gentlemen involved in a different kind of sparring. Ruien collected his jade from both of them, and then joined his cultivation partner to give him a celebratory kiss on the cheek. 

Even as Mingjue went bright red and all the cheering of the myrmidons momentarily stopped, Ruien just smiled softly. His heart melted when, rather than the high-volume scolding he expected, Mingjue’s expression softened. He wrapped one great arm around the small of Ruien’s back and pulled him close. Amid a bizarre mix of noises from the crowd – including whistling from Wei Wuxian and a shocked gasp from Lan Xichen – Nie Mingjue kissed his beloved deeply and tenderly as if they were the only two people in the world. Ruien decided then that he would one day bring Mingjue back to his homeland, as he could not imagine a happier feeling than riding the endless green fields with this man beside him.


	24. A Midsummer Night's Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wei Wuxian and Jin Guangyao conspire to play a prank on Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen, with Nie Mingjue and Kang Ruien getting caught up in the mix. Farce ensues.

These days, there was little in life to make Jin Guangyao feel displeased. He had prestige, wealth, his cultivation was better than ever, and by his side, the kindest and most beautiful creature on earth. If he had one complaint, it was simple: they were not having sex. 

Lan Xichen was a warm person in many ways, but sexually he could be considered quite a cold fish. For the majority of the time they spent together, he was perfectly content sitting across the room from Guangyao in silence, reading, playing his flute, or meditating and occasionally casting him frustratingly, heart-breakingly adorable smiles. At night, though they always slept in the same bed, Xichen appeared so comfortable as soon as Guangyao was encircled in his arms that A-Yao always felt guilty even to break contact long enough to lean up and kiss him. He was beginning to wonder exactly what part of this could be considered dual cultivation.

It was as he was mulling over this issue that he discovered another happy couple in their social circle was experiencing a very different problem. 

Jin Zixuan had invited most of the leaders of the four great clans to dinner that evening, and many had arrived early to enjoy the sights at Carp Tower. Jin Guangyao was leaning on a delicately carved window frame and looking out at the garden when he spotted a couple walking and arguing. 

Wei Wuxian was grinning even as he sighed and appeared quite annoyed with his stoic husband as they argued their way through the garden. “It’s like arguing with a brick wall…” he heard Wei Wuxian complain to the air, as if describing the scene.

“Wei Ying. I do not wish to argue,” Lan Wangji said, and it looked like he meant it. Though even Jin Guangyao’s accuracy at reading Lan Wangji’s expression was not one hundred percent.

“Then give up and admit it! You are attracted to other people, it’s not a crime!”

“I am not.” Though Wangji’s tone remained calm, Guangyao thought there was a flicker of fire in his eyes that indicated anger. 

“Of course you are!” Wei Wuxian insisted, smirking and chuckling though appearing to grow angry as well. “Look. Lan Wangji. Hanguang-jun. Er-gege,” he wheedled, taking two languid steps to approach Lan Wangji and then coquettishly spreading his palms across his wide chest. “I’m not saying you must sleep with other people. But if you don’t admit that you’ve at least ONCE felt attraction for someone other than me, I may just have a qi deviation from anger.”

After a long pause, in which Lan Wangji seemed equally enraptured by Wei Wuxian as he was annoyed by him, he eventually replied, “Your spiritual power does not reach the level required for a qi deviation.”

“That’s it. I’m going to find Jiang Cheng. At least he gives me some entertaining reactions when I hit a nerve!” said Wei Wuxian, turning on his heel and walking briskly away. Lan Wangji stayed where he was, expressionless, but Guangyao thought rather lonely.

Wei Wuxian ended up walking down the hall where Guangyao was still leaning against the window. “Ah,” he said anticlimactically, as he spotted him. “Ah…” he hemmed for a moment, and perhaps even blushed slightly. “You saw that, Lianfang-zun?”

“Saw and heard, I’m afraid,” Guangyao said with a warm smile. “Forgive me, it was not my intention to eavesdrop.”

“Oh, haha, no. On the contrary, sorry for arguing in public,” Wei Wuxian muttered, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. 

Guangyao sighed, taking a look out at the lingering Lan Wangji, though he soon moved off as well. “The Lan family is indeed a paragon,” he commented. “Virtuous and powerful, deserving of the utmost respect and admiration. Even romantic on occasion.” With an apologetic smile, he glanced at Wei Wuxian and added, “If only that paragon of behavior included the occasional…spontaneity.”

“Mm,” Wei Wuxian agreed thoughtfully. He contemplated for a moment, and then Jin Guangyao was certain he saw a pair of phantom rabbit ears flick up as if in anticipation. Wei Wuxian’s eyes sparkled. “Lianfang-zun,” he said with a devious grin. “Would you say those two could use a small prank on them, to loosen them up a little?”

“Why Master Wei,” said Jin Guangyao, pushing off the wall he was leaning on and coming to stand before his new co-conspirator. “Are you proposing playing a prank on two of the most powerful and honorable cultivators in the land?”

Wei Wuxian’s grin widened, and moments later he produced a vial from his qiankun sleeve. “A while back, I had Nie Huaisang send me a little something he found. Until now I thought it was useless, but this might be the perfect time to try.”

“What is it?” asked Guangyao, examining the contents. The liquid inside was a faded pink color, like cherry blossoms, and swirled in a somewhat disconcerting manner. 

“Love potion.”

Guangyao raised an eyebrow, suddenly feeling less certain about this plan, as well as his new partner in crime. “What would you do with that?”

“Simple! Tonight, while everyone is sleeping, I drop a few drops of this over Lan-gege’s eyes. When he wakes up, he’ll fall madly in love with the next person he sees. Of course, that will be you. I’ll do the same to Lan Zhan, but I’ll play a little trick on him first, so he sees something unbelievably unattractive, like Little Apple or Jiang Cheng.” Wei Wuxian giggled delightedly like a child who had just discovered the sweets cupboard.

Jin Guangyao’s doubts only increased, as well as fear of repercussions if Lan Wangji discovered the plan. “Uh…forgive me, Master Wei, but I would like to think Zewu-jun already loves me. What good will this do?”

“Oh it’s not just love,” said the rogue, swishing the contents of the vial temptingly. “It’s a powerful aphrodisiac too. Those two fuddy-duddies won’t know what hit them.”

“Hm,” Guangyao considered. “How long do the effects last?”

“No more than a day. And drinking tea should cancel the effects immediately, if anything…odd should happen,” Wei Wuxian added, though with a look on his face that said he was very much looking forward to “anything odd” happening.

“I do feel some moral objections to the idea…” Jin Guangyao admitted. “But if the alternative is celibacy, needs must I suppose.”

Wei Wuxian chuckled. “You play the good kid very well these days, Lianfang-zun, but you miss the villainy a little bit, don’t you?”

“I can’t even talk about it,” Guangyao admitted with a slightly desperate smile.

…

Kang Ruien went to sleep that night encircled in Nie Mingjue’s vast arms as usual. He had no idea that as they slept, Wei Wuxian had made a terrible mistake. He had been intending to sneak into the guest room assigned to Lan Xichen to enact his and Jin Guangyao’s nefarious plan. Unfortunately, he had misremembered which guest rooms were assigned to which clan. Before realizing his mistake, he had snuck inside Nie Mingjue’s room, found two men sleeping together and assumed them to be Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao, and dropped his love potion over the eyes of the larger of the two. 

Nie Mingjue woke and grumbled irritably at the sensation of dampness on his face. As he stirred, he woke Ruien too. As he woke, Ruien thought he heard a soft gasp from another person, and even thought he saw a shadow fleeing the room. He blinked away his sleep and tried to peer into the darkness. 

Meanwhile, Nie Mingjue grumbled again and got up. 

“Clan Leader?” Ruien asked worriedly. 

“’s nothing,” Mingjue murmured sleepily. In the dark, Ruien couldn’t see his face to judge if he were really all right. “Head hot. Going outside. Cool down.” When he was sleepy, his speaking style became even more terse and utilitarian than usual. Ruien found it equally intimidating and adorable.

“…all right,” Ruien said slipping back into bed. He planned to get up and keep Mingjue company outside if he didn’t return in a few minutes. 

Though he did try to return to sleep, in the end he was too worried and got up anyway. He didn’t think Mingjue would have gone far, but in any case he began by circling the courtyard outside the room. Not finding Mingjue there, he moved on in a larger circle around the next rows of rooms. But though he did not find Mingjue there either, he did find a lone, silvery figure standing in a picturesque, perfect posture while admiring the moon above. 

He bowed instinctively and murmured, “Hanguang-jun, good evening.”

Slowly, as if reluctant to part from admiring the moon, Lan Wangji’s gaze gradually turned to rest on Ruien. His wood-colored eyes widened minimally. 

Without warning, suddenly the younger of the great Twin Jades of Lan grasped Ruien’ wrist. Ruien gasped. He hadn’t even felt the wind from Lan Wangji approaching. He looked up at him in shock to find a surprisingly tender expression on the face of the intimidating Hanguang-jun.

“Kang…Ruien,” Lan Wangji murmured, slowly, as if feeling out the syllables. For a few, tense moments, they remained like this, Ruien too shocked and frankly too terrified to ask what was going on, and Lan Wangji apparently struggling with some difficult problem that he could not put into words. 

Finally, Wangji’s lips parted and he murmured softly, almost as if frustrated, “Why…are you so…cute?”

“Nh?!” Ruien grunted ungracefully. 

He had no idea what was going on but decided the best thing was to get some help. He pulled free and quickly moved away, but Lan Wangji immediately caught up to him. “Where are you going?” Hanguang-jun asked, with the tone of a lonesome puppy.

Alarmed, Ruien gasped and simply tried to run faster away from him. He managed to reach the chamber of the elder Lan, who he thought might be the only one who would know how to help. Forsaking politeness, he burst inside the chamber of Lan Xichen, with Lan Wangji right behind him. He hurriedly grasped the arm of one of the sleeping figures inside. 

“Zewu-jun!” he cried, lightly shaking him by the shoulder.

Zewu-jun took in a breath to shake the sleep away and slowly rose up on one elbow, rubbing his eyes. “What?” he murmured, looking at his hand in confusion as if he had felt something strange as he did so. 

“Zewu-jun! I’m sorry to disturb, but something has happened to Hanguang-jun!” Ruien explained quickly.

“Nh…all right,” Zewu-jun murmured, glancing up at Ruien as he attempted to rouse himself. But the moment his gaze fell on Ruien, he saw a very familiar and very disturbing phenomenon take place. Zewu-jun’s warm, dark eyes widened as an expression of barely restrained admiration broke over his normally cool and gentle face. “Rui…en?” he whispered in awe.

Ruien shivered from head to toe. “L-…Lianfang-zun…?” he half-choked in desperation, hoping the other occupant of the bed had been woken by all this. 

Jin Guangyao indeed reluctantly rose to a seated position from the other side of the bed with a sigh, but remained looking ahead with an extremely bitter smile. “Well this is difficult to find amusing. Where is Wei Wuxian, I wonder? I’ll have to ask him how he would prefer to die.”

“Wh…what?! What’s going on?” Ruien cried, now very conscious of being under the intense gazes of both Jades of Lan, unconsciously shrinking back from them.

“Ruien,” said Lan Wangji, grasping Ruien’s wrist again. He looked down at him firmly and said, “We’re disturbing Xiong-zhang. Let’s go.”

“We?!” Ruien repeated, quite unable to cope with this change in Hanguang-jun’s character. “Zewu-jun, can you explain what has happened to him?”

But at that moment, Kang Ruien’s other hand was captured in both of Lan Xichen’s. The elder Lan murmured sweetly, “Why should you be concerned about Wangji, my sweet? I’m all you need.”

Ruien had to hold back the urge to make an audible noise of distress. Before he had even recovered from this absurdity, an arm wrapped around his shoulders from above. He shuddered slightly as he looked up to see Lan Wangji frowning slightly with a look of concealed pain.

“Don’t look at him so much,” Wangji mumbled, sounding vaguely like a demanding child.

Lan Xichen sighed. “Wangji. Do not act spoiled. Why don’t you go and find Master Wei?”

But Hanguang-jun only stubbornly shook his head and pulled Ruien closer.

Ruien could not order his thoughts at all, nor manage any response to all that was happening. At least, he thought, if they were both this dangerous, they should not be together. He tried to picture how he had seen Wei Wuxian handling Lan Wangji before.

“Hanguang-jun…please, let go. Look, just wait outside for a moment, all right?” he said, pulling away from Lan Xichen and gently trying to push Lan Wangji back. 

A ripple of heartbreak passed over his face. Lan Wangji’s eyes passed from Lan Xichen back to Ruien with uncertainty. But eventually, they lowered, and he reluctantly nodded. “Mm.”

At first, he obediently went outside. But he remained in the doorway, and his lips parted as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t manage it. “Ruien…” he murmured, looking up at him as if asking for help. He opened his mouth to speak again, but just then a sudden, low voice resounded from across the courtyard.

“Lan Wangji!”

Ruien felt cold strike him down to his bones. There was no mistaking that grumbling bass. Though he couldn’t see him from this angle, he heard Nie Mingjue’s heavy footsteps approaching and saw Lan Wangji turn to face him. 

“Clan Leader Nie,” said Wangji coldly, suddenly seeming entirely his normal self.

“You…” said Mingjue as he approached. His hulking figure appeared as a shadow in the doorway, approaching Lan Wangji in the moonlight. He stared at him with more intensity than Ruien had ever seen from him. But then without warning, he grasped Lan Wangji’s face and neck in his hands and pulled him close.

All three occupants of the room stood in abject shock and horror at the preposterous image before them. The two figures passionately entangled in the doorway, one deeply kissing the other and the other attempting to break away and flee, were the two most terrifying cultivators known to the world. As Lan Wangji finally managed to break away and suck in a deep breath, rage rolled across his normally pristine face. 

“Nie Mingjue…do you want to die?” he asked coldly, one hand reaching for Bichen.

“I’m already dying,” Mingjue complained, seeming unaware of the threat. But in his passion, he grasped Wangji tightly to him and there was no room for the other to maneuver. “My best friend’s little brother…I’ll surely go to hell for this, but I can’t stop…Wangji…I’ll make you mine.”

“That’s enough,” said a reassuringly calm voice. 

Lan Xichen gracefully got out of bed and broke in between them, slamming Nie Mingjue bodily with the flat of his hand and a burst of spiritual energy, blasting him well outside the room. 

With that, Zewu-jun sighed as if in disappointment and stood between his best friend and brother. “Da-ge,” he said disapprovingly. “I understand you may be feeling bitter, now that Ruien and I are in love, but-“

“Ah? Ruien?” Mingjue grumbled, patting down his clothes as he rose to his feet, barely even seeming to feel pain from an attack that could have shattered the bones of a lesser cultivator. “Who cares about him? The one I want is your brother, and that’s a matter between him and me,” he said, pointing between Wangji and himself.

Lan Wangji had drawn Bichen out several inches before Lan Xichen’s hand fell on his own and stopped him. 

“I’ll just take Ruien out of harm’s way then,” Jin Guangyao briefly interrupted, emerging from the room and tugging Ruien along behind him. 

“Ah…” Lan Wangji murmured regretfully, watching after them and obviously wishing to follow.

“Wangji, don’t worry. I’ll take care of Master Kang as soon as we’re done here,” said Lan Xichen with a warm and naïve smile that was absolutely unsuitable to the atmosphere. 

Suddenly, Lan Wangji’s outrage became focused on his brother instead. He blocked Lan Xichen’s view to the retreating Guangyao and Ruien and told him firmly, “Even if it’s Xiong-zhang, I won’t let you have him. Kang Ruien is mine.”

But whatever happened after that was a mystery to Ruien, as he and Jin Guangyao were soon out of earshot of the calamitous meeting of the three great and apparently temporarily insane cultivators. 

“What is going on?” Ruien demanded as soon as they were a safe distance away.

Jin Guangyao sighed, looking skyward as if for help. “I suppose we should brew some tea. What a disappointing turn of events. Though I must admit, this is significantly more entertaining than I expected.”

“Expected?!” Ruien snarled, grasping his arm harshly.

At that moment, they were joined by another figure who came running up to them, panting as if he had been running for some time. “Hey!” Wei Wuxian said merrily, despite the calamities. “I don’t suppose either of you has seen Lan Zhan? I left him in a bit of a vulnerable state, you see. I was supposed to be watching him, but the moon was so beautiful and I got caught up in looking at it, then I more or less fell asleep for a moment, so…”

“Wei Wuxian,” said Jin Guangyao, with a smile that could curdle milk. “Don’t worry about the trivialities for now. Brew the tea.”

Wei Wuxian took this in for a moment with a mild expression of mixed fear and interest, and he eventually chuckled reluctantly and nodded. As Wei Wuxian set about quickly making the tea, Jin Guangyao explained the situation in a few words for both the other two. 

Wei Wuxian made a horrified expression near the end. “Nie Mingjue actually kissed him?” He tried, and failed, to cover a small laugh. “Poor Lan Zhan,” he added without sincerity.

Guangyao nodded solemnly. “It’s an image I will find hard to shake.”

“You two…” Ruien snarled, for at least this moment losing all sense of respect for either of them. He clenched his fists and got up to leave before he had thought it through. “I regret ever defending either of you. This is despicable. Solve it yourselves.”

“Ah, Master Kang,” Guangyao stopped him. “With the best will in the world, it really isn’t safe for you to go outside with both the Twin Jades of Lan after you.”

Wei Wuxian laughed. “An enviable position.”

“Is it so difficult to simply brew tea, Wei Wuxian?” Guangyao asked him with a chilling smile. “Please sit, Master Kang. In any case, I think you would agree that Clan Leader Nie is in need of help, and I doubt you would wish to leave him entirely in the hands of the two who caused this trouble in the first place.”

Ruien gritted his teeth but was unable to argue. He slowly sat back down beside Wei Wuxian over the censor fire they had started, but could not stop himself from muttering, “Despicable,” once more under his breath.

“Now there’s the issue of how we get them to drink it,” Wei Wuxian commented as the tea steeped. “From the sound of things, they’re all on the war path at the moment. And none of us really matches up to any of them in sheer strength or cultivation.”

“A sleeping powder cast into the air from above should do,” Jin Guangyao suggested, looking far too calm in Ruien’s opinion. 

“Assuming they’re all still together,” Wei Wuxian said. 

“Mm,” Guangyao agreed. “If any one of them breaks off and isn’t distracted by the others, it would become quite difficult to contain them.”

“We can use Ruien as bait!” Wei Wuxian suggested enthusiastically.

Guangyao raised an eyebrow at him, but he looked rather amused. “You take to villainy quite naturally, Master Wei. As expected of the Yiling Patriach, I suppose.”

Ruien couldn’t help from glancing up at Jin Guangyao as something occurred to him. As he thought back on the behavior of the others just now, he couldn’t help feeling it was somewhat odd. 

“Is there something on my face?” Jin Guangyao asked, apparently not very fond of Ruien staring at him.

Ruien started to apologize automatically before he remembered how much he resented both these men for the situation they were in, and he closed his mouth. “I was just thinking,” he began again. “Lan Xichen doesn’t seem very affected.”

Jin Guangyao and Wei Wuxian exchanged a glance, both seeming equally uncertain. Wei Wuxian considered. “And, from what you say, the worst off is Clan Leader Nie. What does it mean?”

“You provided the potion, Master Wei. Are you saying you don’t understand how it functions?” Guangyao asked bitingly.

“I understand,” Wei Wuxian said defensively, although not entirely believably. “Hm. Their cultivation is roughly the same…they were all asleep…neither their ages nor gender are noticeably different. They even ate the same food today. What is different?”

Guangyao sighed. “Does this really matter? We should be planning how to stop this rampage.”

“I wonder…is it because, of the three of them, Lan Xichen loves Lianfang-zun the most?”

The doubt and pain lingering in Ruien’s heart reached up into his throat as if to choke him. Who cares about him? The shockingly painful words spoken by his beloved moments ago echoed inside his mind. Though the pain continued to hit him in waves, once he heard the words out loud, his low self-esteem forced him to accept them.

Although Jin Guangyao did noticeably blush, the reaction lasted only for a moment. He scoffed. “I’m not going to pretend to be humble and say he doesn’t love me. Xichen loves me…as much as he can,” Guangyao concluded, the volume in his voice fading at the end. “But by your theory, Master Wei, you seem to be suggesting Hanguang-jun loves you less than Xichen loves me. And with all due respect to the great Hanguang-jun, he makes no secret of his feelings for you.”

“Right…maybe it isn’t that,” Wei Wuxian said thoughtfully. 

With the glimmer of hope at an alternative explanation, Ruien contemplated the matter. By and large, their approaches seemed to match their personalities. Yet none of them would normally ever be so bold, or care so little for propriety. It was almost as if they had been reduced to less sophisticated versions of themselves. The only major divergence was where their affection was placed.

Lan Xichen was being kind to Jin Guangyao whether he loved him or not, because he was essentially kind to everyone. Nie Mingjue, by contrast, had no time in his life for anything that wasn’t the absolute focus of his attention, and in general did not much like other people. In other words, they were still themselves, but subtracted of their social graces.

“Master Wei is right,” Ruien said reluctantly. “I should be the bait.”

He outlined a plan to subdue them. Essentially, it involved appealing to their true natures. Unfortunately, much hinged on the idea that the feelings of these men for their real partners were true. 

Wei Wuxian adopted a smile that was difficult to read as listened to Ruien's plan. “You don’t seem to sure of yourself, player,” he joked, though somehow he didn’t sound too amused. “I envy you, though. Wasn’t quite joking when I said it sounded nice being chased by both those beautiful faces. Didn’t that improve your confidence?”

Jin Guangyao shot him a look that said he no longer had any desire to hide his murderous intent toward this man.

Ruien tightened his jaw unconsciously. “Because I’m ugly I must feel honored by the presence of beauty,” he muttered bitterly. He looked up at Wei Wuxian and told him calmly, “Unfortunately I’m freakish down to my heart as well. I love who I love regardless of his appearance, and no one else will do.”

Wei Wuxian sighed loudly. “You and Lan Zhan both. I don’t get it.”

“Mm. I’m quite upset to find myself on the same side as Master Wei,” Guangyao murmured, casting his gaze skyward again but managing to keep his facial expression mostly civil. 

“Let’s go,” Ruien grumbled, quite fed up with them both.

They took their positions according to the plan. Ruien went out to find the three rampaging cultivators, Jin Guangyao lurking in the shadows and ready to assist or rescue him if need be, and Wei Wuxian taking the tea into Lan Xichen’s rooms. He quickly found them by the sounds of a fight, as all three had begun fighting one another in the moonlit courtyard by now.

“Hanguang-jun,” Ruien called from the walkway. 

Both Lan brothers looked up at the sound of his voice. Lan Xichen smiled warmly up at him, while Lan Wangji’s lovesickness seemed to grow even more painful for him at the sight of him. 

“Do you remember the song you wrote for me?” Ruien asked.

“Song…?” Lan Wangji seemed confused. “It wasn’t…”

“That’s right. You haven’t written one for me.”

At that moment, from inside Lan Xichen’s chamber, the sound of Chenqing floated sweetly out to the ears of the gentlemen in the courtyard. Lan Wangji’s gaze lingered on the chamber, and there was a moment of clarity in his eyes. He took in a difficult breath, and for a moment, he seemed to be looking at the door of that chamber as he had been watching the moon when Ruien found him. 

“You have unfinished business. Before you can be with me, you must properly say goodbye to Wei Wuxian.”

Ruien felt pity for the vibrant emotions that struck Lan Wangji’s face in only an instant. He seemed tormented. As if he were being pulled in two directions at once. He slowly lowered his gaze to the ground near his feet. 

“I must do this?” he asked, very softly.

Ruien nodded. 

After a heavy moment of hesitation, Lan Wangji met Ruien’s gaze and nodded. He turned and walked up to the chamber, knocked, and entered. They all heard Wei Wuxian greet him and offer him a cup of tea before he closed the door. 

“Wangji!” Nie Mingjue cried, trying to go after him. 

Ruien joined Lan Xichen in holding him back, but Xichen looked down at him with hurt as well. “Ruien…are you going to choose Wangji?”

“Don’t worry, Zewu-jun,” Ruien reassured him, even as they both had to use all their strength to hold back Nie Mingjue. “It was just a ruse to cure him. He can help cure Clan Leader Nie of his own illness afterwards. Will you help?”

Xichen gave him another achingly warm smile. “If you say you’ll be with me, I’ll do anything you ask, Ruien.”

Ruien tried not to roll his eyes, but couldn’t help glancing toward the shadows where he assumed Jin Guangyao was, hoping he hadn’t heard that. He had seen Guangyao’s animosity toward Wei Wuxian only for implying Lan Xichen was good-looking. He didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that man’s jealousy.

Only moments later, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji emerged from Xichen’s chamber. Lan Wangji barely showed anything on his facial expression as usual, but both his neck and ears were bright red. 

“Wangji!” Nie Mingjue cried again, straining against the grasp of Lan Xichen and Kang Ruien.

“C-…” Lan Wangji began, but seemed utterly unable to pronounce the shameful words he was about to say. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Clan Leader Nie. Have a cup of tea with me. Then…I will…I will…” His jaw tightened, and he seemed to have frozen.

Wei Wuxian was desperately holding back laughter. He leaned over to peek up at him from below. “Go on, Lan Zhan. You’ll what?”

“………………..allow you to…touch me.”

Wei Wuxian crumpled to the ground like wet paper and slapped the wooden walkway as he shook with laughter. 

“Ah? Tea?” Mingjue muttered, seeming confused. 

“The person I kept secret inside the Unclean Realm,” Ruien said, in barely above a whisper. “If you share a cup of tea with Lan Wangji, he will tell you who it was.”

To his surprise, Mingjue’s enthusiasm seemed to fade. He stopped fighting them, and his eyes cast down to the ground. “…I don’t want to know,” he muttered, seeming somewhat distant.

Ruien’s heart pounded louder inside his chest, equal hope and pain rising up inside him. “Why not?” he couldn’t help from asking. He prepared himself for the heartbreak he would feel if Nie Mingjue didn’t want to know because he simply didn’t care about Ruien anymore.

Mingjue looked troubled and didn’t seem to want to answer. The other five cultivators all waited in silence as he struggled to respond. But eventually, it was an answer no one expected. “…I don’t want to know because of a trade. If he doesn’t trust me enough to tell me himself, then…I…" 

“…’he’…?” Ruien whispered hesitantly. 

“L-…Lan Wangji,” Mingjue murmured, though he looked very confused as he said the name. 

Unable to take either solace or despair from this response, Ruien nodded. “He’s waiting for you there. Have a cup of tea with him to prove your sincerity.”

“Oh,” Mingjue said, now surprisingly obedient. He did indeed follow Lan Wangji inside, and Wei Wuxian stood in the doorway looking after them with a curious grin. 

Lan Xichen turned to face Ruien, and before he knew what was happening, had gathered him up in a warm embrace. “You are so brilliant. Sometimes I think I love your mind most of all,” Xichen murmured, his deep and gentle voice echoing against Ruien’s face, pressed to his chest. 

Ruien coughed uncomfortably and slowly extricated himself. “But I’m so devious. No one can ever trust me.”

“That is not so,” Xichen said, clasping his cheek in his hand and smiling down at him like the picture of an angel. “I trust you with all my heart. And even the way you lie is…” He frowned softly as if his mind wandered off as he was speaking. “…charming.”

“But I don’t lie, Zewu-jun,” Ruien told him in a cold voice. “I’m terrible at it.”

“No…no, of course. I know…” Xichen murmured, looking more and more confused. 

At that moment, the door to Lan Xichen’s chamber slammed open. The towering Nie Mingjue stood there as if he had just seen a ghost, panting as if he had just run a mile. As they all watched, he visibly shook himself once from head to toe like a dog. His gaze turned up to Ruien with both clarity and intense mortification. 

“Ruien…” he whispered.

Jin Guangyao chose that moment to appear from the shadows. “Forgive the interruption, Er-ge,” he said softly to Lan Xichen. “But if you truly wish to end our relationship, I would also like to request that you share a cup of tea with me.”

“A-Yao…” Lan Xichen murmured, pain flickering across his face. “To end…” he murmured, looking momentarily lost.

“Do not fear, Er-ge,” said Jin Guangyao, taking Lan Xichen’s hand and gently caressing his face. “Great love awaits you on the other side of a false one.”

Xichen looked toward Ruien as if looking for help. Ruien nodded. 

After the two had disappeared back into their own room (closing and locking the door this time), and Lan Wangji took Wei Wuxian away after simply saying the word, “punishment” to him, Nie Mingjue and Kang Ruien stood across from one another in the courtyard. Neither seemed to know quite how to approach the other. 

In the end, Ruien swallowed the pain in his heart and walked up to Nie Mingjue in order to ask softly, “Do you feel all right, Clan Leader?”

Mingjue’s brows tightened in pain at the distant form of address. Just hours earlier, he had been “Mingjue” in a soft and intimate voice. “I would feel better if you would hit me.”

“…I would never.”

Mingjue sighed irritably. “Well then what should I do?! The way I behaved…I’m a beast. I should sleep in the stable tonight.”

Ruien paused at this, uncertain. It seemed that Nie Mingjue felt guilty, although of course from Ruien’s perspective he had no reason to be. His actions had not been of his own will, and even if he did seem less controlled than the Twin Jades of Lan under the same circumstances, that was hardly a fair comparison for anyone. 

But there was a lingering doubt that would not disappear easily. Who cares about him? Those words, though he was certain Mingjue had said them more than once about people he actually did care about, tapped into those old insecurities that Ruien had never quiet let go. 

“Clan Leader…Mingjue…” Ruien added hesitantly, lowering his gaze because he was afraid to see Mingjue’s expression. “I hope…that you believe me when I say that I only wish for your happiness. And even if it were not Lan Wangji, or even anyone in particular, if you ever grow tired of me…”

Before he had finished, Mingjue suddenly grabbed him by the shoulders and looked at him with an intense gaze. “…you fool.” Without warning, he pulled Ruien close and pressed his head tightly against his chest. “There’s nothing but you inside here.”

Ruien could not hold back any longer and melted against him, tears stinging at his eyes. He loved this man far too much, he had to admit to himself. Mingjue would not hear any objections as he gathered Ruien up in his arms and carried him back to their room, where he spent the rest of that night holding him, kissing his hair, and telling him that he loved him, over and over. 

For them, it was a blissfully quiet and intimate night. For the other two couples, however, both were later forced to apologize to the servants of Carp Tower for noise and for damage to various walls, floors, and items around the bedrooms.


End file.
